


Building Windmills

by katling



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Angst, Courtesans, F/M, Happy Ending, Killing, M/M, Minor Character Death, Red Lyrium, Red Templars, Sex, bad people die okay, but still set in Thedas, medium level violence, mentions of lyrium addiction and withdrawal, resolution of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:33:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 72,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katling/pseuds/katling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>When the winds of change blow, some people build walls and others build windmills. ~Chinese Proverb</i>
</p>
<p>This is an Thedas AU in which Haven is a country, Skyhold is a magnificent city carved out of the mountains and Evelyn Trevelyan is a Queen, not the Inquisitor. </p>
<p>As far as alliance marriages go, Cullen knows this isn't a bad one but he's out of place, lonely and lost. Enter Dorian Pavus, a courtesan hired by his wife to be a companion and, she hopes, something more. Add in threats, red lyrium, Corypheus and an old friend making a reappearance to wreak havoc and Cullen's life changes remarkably.</p>
<p>This was my Nano 2015 fic that I have finally managed to finish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have made a few small changes beyond the big AU ones, such as Cullen being the youngest in his family instead of the second eldest, Templars being an elite military order rather than associated with the Chantry and Templars only taking lyrium when they need to instead of all the time. Anyway, I've hopefully managed to smooth those changes in the story and explain them properly.
> 
> The chapters will be of varying lengths because unlike my other fics, I didn't write this chapter by chapter but more scene by scene, so some scenes are long, others are quite short but as the entire fic sits at over 72000 words I didn't want to throw it in here in one big lump and I couldn't figure out a way to split it into sensible chapters.

“We don’t want you to be unhappy, Cullen.”

Cullen had been hearing variations of that ever since his father told him that an alliance marriage had been arranged between Ferelden and Haven and that he was the one who would have to marry Queen Evelyn. The only one who could, given his three older siblings were already married. Nobody wanted him to be unhappy but it wasn’t like they were giving him much of a choice either. The alliance documents insisted on a marriage though Cullen hadn’t been able to get a straight answer out of anyone as to which side had first brought up the idea. He supposed it didn’t really matter. Both sides had agreed and things had proceeded inexorably to the point where he’d found himself walking up the aisle of the Grand Hall of the Stronghold in Skyhold and marrying Queen Evelyn.

Evelyn had been the only person who had said those words to him and actually meant it. He’d supposed it was because she was in a similar position to him - marrying someone she didn’t love or really want. Haven’s laws were different from those of Ferelden. Queen Evelyn already had a child, a young boy of eight whom many assumed had been fathered by her long-time lover, the Captain of the Stronghold Guard, Captain Blackwall. The Queen was not obligated to answer that question, only to attest that the child was hers – an obvious thing when the monarch was a woman and thus had midwives and healers who could attest to the fact she’d been preganat and given birth. On his part, Blackwall had neither confirmed nor denied it. The child was the legal heir, irrespective of his paternity, and thus Evelyn was free to pursue her romance with Blackwall. She didn’t need Cullen except politically.

So Evelyn had only required him to consummate the marriage and had done all she could to see him made comfortable. He had superb rooms in the Royal Wing of the Stronghold. As Prince Consort, he had a rank that was second only to the Queen. He was treated with respect and decency, something that he constantly reminded himself would _never_ have happened in a place like Val Royeaux. But despite all of that, he was bored. And miserable.

He had lost everything by agreeing to this marriage. Not that he’d really had the option to say no but that was beside the point. He had been a highly respected Knight-Captain in the Templar Order of the Ferelden Army. He’d been in line for a promotion to Knight-Commander. He’d been training with Lord Marshal Teagan to eventually take over from that well-respected and intelligent man. He’d had a _career_. He’d taken a well-respected path for the youngest prince who was unlikely to ever inherit the throne. 

But here, in Skyhold, he had nothing. It wasn’t appropriate for the Prince Consort to join the Guard and Haven didn’t have standing army as such. It had a lot of irregulars because the mountains themselves protected the city. All Skyhold needed to do was mine and destroy the one good road to the city and, well, they knew all the alternate ways in and out of the country but no one else did. Skyhold didn’t have Templars because they didn’t need them. Their mages rarely caused trouble and when they did, the Spymaster was usually the first know and she dealt with it. So Cullen had nothing to do. His training was irrelevant here and he didn’t even have the social skills to make much of a courtier, let alone make friends easily. 

So he’d been moping. He’d kept mostly to his rooms or the library but he was moping. He was bored and miserable and saw nothing but more boredom and misery in his future. He felt like the outsider he was. What he didn’t know was that he was the subject of some conversation in more official places.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn can't bear the fact she's now married to the saddest puppy in existence and a plan is made to cheer Cullen up.

“He looks like the saddest puppy in all existence,” Evelyn said plaintively. “Like I’ve been kicking him around the room and then denied him a treat. I can’t stand it! He’s a nice man, a _good_ man and I feel like I’ve ruined his life.”

“The alliance marriage was needed, Your Majesty,” said Josephine Montilyet, Seneschal to the Queen. She winced. There was historical precedent for Ferelden’s wariness. Not every monarch of Haven had been trustworthy and decent. “It was the only way to convince Ferelden that we were sincere.”

“I know it was,” Evelyn said with a sigh. “It’s certainly got Orlais off our backs and I’m grateful for that but Josie! You’ve seen the man.”

Josephine sighed and nodded. “I have and you are right. He does look miserable,” she said with sympathy.

“He’s a military man and we’ve got no military,” Blackwall grumbled. “He’s too well trained to be a Guard, even if it were allowed for the Prince Consort to become one, and the only other position he could take is mine. And I’m not giving it up.”

Evelyn gave him a small smile. “I wouldn’t ask that of you.”

“Unfortunately he’s too honest and open to be effective in the Game,” Leliana said, leaning back in her chair.

“Only you would say that was unfortunate,” Evelyn teased.

Leliana smiled. “Well, I _am_ your Spymaster.”

“He is well educated but he is not a scholar,” Cassandra said. “He has no magic so he cannot join the ranks of the mages or artificers.” She sighed and shook her head. “I can see why he is at a loose end. I would be too in his position.”

“You like him, don’t you?” Evelyn asked.

Cassandra Pentaghast was Navarran, the only one in all of Haven from what they knew. She was a member of the Navarran royal family, though she declined any frippery that might have earned her. She was a superb swordswoman and more than capable in the Game, though she loathed playing it. All in all, she had made an excellent Monarch’s Champion, to the point where she had effectively silenced all complaints about a Navarran taking the position. What’s more, Evelyn liked her enormously and that was half the battle won right there.

“I do,” Cassandra replied with the stiff haughtiness that always coloured her voice when she was talking about her feelings. Evelyn found it hilarious that Cassandra could talk about maiming and killing people with ease but when it came to admitting she _liked_ someone, she got all awkward and tongue-tied. “He is a good man, honest and solid like many Fereldans. I shall invite him to spar with me of a morning.”

Evelyn smiled at her. “Thank you, Cassandra. That will help.”

Cassandra gave a stiff bow and returned to her position against the wall behind Evelyn’s chair.

“What about a courtesan?” Josephine said, tapping the end of her quill against her chin thoughtfully.

Eyebrows went up around the table as they considered that idea. The Courtesan’s Guild had long existed in Haven and was an established Guild with strict rules. Guild courtesans were more than just bed partners, indeed some of them didn’t even fulfil that role with their clients. Courtesans were, in a sense, paid companions, in any sense of the word that was relevant. They were highly educated, skilled conversationalists, were encouraged to develop other skills such as music or sword work, some were even mages. And, of course, they were skilled bed partners. There was even an official position in the court for a Monarch’s Courtesan, though Evelyn had never taken advantage of it.

“He won’t like it,” Cassandra said bluntly.

Blackwall grunted. “I agree. They don’t have a Courtesan’s Guild in Ferelden.” He arched his eyebrow. “They have plenty of whores though. He may misunderstand the courtesan’s role.”

“So we make sure the courtesan knows this beforehand and can explain the difference,” Josephine said with a dismissive wave of her hand.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Leliana said after a moment of thought. “Especially if we request a courtesan who can also act as a bodyguard. You know I’ve been hearing whispers about trouble.”

“Nothing more concrete?” Evelyn asked, momentarily distracted from the problem of Cullen.

Leliana shook her head. “Not as yet but I will find out.”

Evelyn nodded. She didn’t have any doubts about her Spymaster. Whatever was going on in Skyhold would be ferreted out and ended so she turned her thoughts back to her moping Prince Consort. She chewed on a fingernail for a moment until Blackwall gently drew her hand away from her mouth, a long-standing habit between them. He’d always found it unladylike for her to chew on her fingernails and she enjoyed his gentle unspoken admonition. It was the perfect little dance between them.

“Contact the Courtesan’s Guild, Josephine,” she said. “Work with them to find the best option.” She paused for a moment. “Make sure it’s a man.”

“A man?” Josephine said with surprise.

“He’s dallied with both in Ferelden,” Leliana said. 

Evelyn shuddered, wondering just how much information the Spymaster had on everyone. Technically she had the right to see everything Leliana had but she’d never exercised that right. She really didn’t want to know that much about anyone, let alone people she might have to work with.

“He may well have but I think his preferences lie with men,” she said. She smiled wryly. “He was too… perfunctory with me and not just because we were essentially strangers beforehand. It was like he was ticking off a list of all the things that would please me and believe me, he _definitely_ pleased me.” She smiled at Blackwall’s scowl and patted his cheek. “But he could never replace you, my love.” Blackwall settled back, looking satisfied and Evelyn continued, “He certainly derived some pleasure out of it himself but it was all physical, nothing emotional. I only noticed because, well, it was the same for me. His previous partners have probably been very well satisfied all round because they thought his heart was in it and he is very good at making it pleasurable.”

“You think he’d be different with a man?” Josephine said dubiously.

“Let’s call it a hunch,” Evelyn replied with a wry smile. “Just go with me on this, Josie.”

“Very well,” Josephine said, making a note on her ever-present board. “I will speak to the Guild today.”

“Alright,” Evelyn said. “Onto other subjects…” She paused and frowned. “Oh, Josie, make sure these meetings are on Cullen’s schedule from now on. He’s an intelligent man and from everything I’ve been told, a skilled strategist. He’s also a Prince in his own right, not just by marriage. He might just be helpful here.”

Josephine looked chagrined. “Of course, Your Majesty. I should have thought of that myself.”

Evelyn nodded and the conversation moved on to other issues.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josephine informs Cullen of their plans and Cullen is... not very happy about it. He's also resigned to that fact his life is apparently out of his control now. Poor puppy.

Cullen was leaning against the wall beside one of the windows in his suite when a knock at the door drew him out of his brooding thoughts. He paused for a moment to school his expression into something more neutral, even friendly, then went and opened the door.

“Ah, Your Highness, I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Lady Josephine Montilyet, the Queen’s Seneschal.”

Cullen blinked at the onslaught of words and looked at the woman in the doorway. She was shorter than him but a few inches. Dark-skinned and beautiful with a penchant for wearing clothes made of a shiny gold material. He did remember her. He had met her briefly before the wedding but she had been very busy.

“Uh, yes, we met at the welcoming reception,” he said, one hand moving unconsciously to rub at the back of his neck. He then hastily stepped aside. “Won’t you come in?”

“Thank you,” Josephine said with a kind smile. Once she was in the room and Cullen had closed the door, she pulled a sheet of paper off her board and held it out to him. “I have your schedule for the next week.”

Cullen took it slowly. He almost discarded it on the table as he had all the other schedules he’d been given. They’d been a plethora of dinner possibilities and parties and teas and he’d declined all of them. It was only the fact that Josephine had taken the time out of her busy schedule to deliver this one personally that made him actually read it and what he saw made him frown.

“Queen’s Council? What’s that?”

He was surprised to see the Seneschal look chagrined and apologetic.

“Something you should have been a part of since the wedding,” she said. “I would like to apologise for the oversight. Our first choice for an alliance marriage was a young Lord from Orlais who is… well, not to put too fine a point on it… thick as a brick. There was no thought of allowing him access to the Council meetings.”

“Oh,” Cullen said, feeling a little nonplussed.

“When our talks with Ferelden revealed that you might be amenable to an alliance marriage, well, we were rather pleased,” Josephine continued. “You were an infinitely better option.”

Cullen’s gaze flicked up to the Seneschal as some of her wording sank in. ‘… _you might be amenable_ …’ Was that how it had been presented in the negotiations? That he was _amenable_? He supposed that technically it wasn’t a lie. He had been amenable but only after it was presented to him as a fait accompli that he had no choice but to accept.

“Uh, well, thank you,” he said, unable to keep the hint of sourness out of his voice.

“I have been remiss in not ensuring you were included in the Council meetings,” Josephine said. She had undoubtedly picked up the tone of his voice but she was politely ignoring it. “You have experience both as a royal and as a soldier and the Queen has asked that you join us and contribute that experience to the running of Haven.”

It may have been just something they were offering to pacify him but he was willing to accept it. He was willing to accept just about anything if it would relieve some of his boredom.

“I… thank you. I’ll be there.” He looked down at the schedule and frowned when he saw that the next morning had been blocked out with something that was labelled only ‘Introduction’. “What’s this tomorrow?”

“Ah yes,” Josephine said. “The Queen has arranged for a courtesan for you. He is coming to the Stronghold tomorrow so that you may meet him and decide if he is suitable.”

Cullen stared at the Seneschal in shock, unable to find any words for the moment. “ _What_?”

Josephine didn’t seem surprised at his shock and she gestured for him to sit down in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. Only when he’d done so did she sit down in the other one and explain.

“I know you do not have courtesans in Fereldan so you will be unaccustomed to the tradition,” she said. “Courtesans are _not_ prostitutes. I must insist on that right from the beginning. There is no obligation on you to take this man to your bed. He is to act as a companion and a bodyguard.”

“I don’t need a friend who has been _paid for_ ,” Cullen ground out through gritted teeth, even as he flushed red from the mention of prostitutes. “And I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Josephine took a breath. “I know you are a Templar, Your Highness, but not all attacks will come as a frontal assault. Courtesans are trained to detect and fight these more subtle attacks.” She held up one hand. “Please just meet with him tomorrow. If you do not like him, we can send him away but will you just give him a chance?”

Cullen wanted to say no, to rant and rave and rail against this but as abruptly as that feeling rose, it died away leaving the same miserable apathy he’d been feeling ever since the alliance marriage had been agreed. He’d lost all control of his future in that moment and now it seemed it was continuing even here. Evelyn and Josephine were organising his life for him and even buying him _friends_. He didn’t have much choice in the matter so it was probably best to just agree and get it over and done with. He could meet with this man tomorrow, tell Josephine he didn’t like him and the matter would be done.

“Very well,” he said dully as he got up from the chair and walked over to the window.

He didn’t see Josephine watching him with concern or see her make a few notes on her board.

“I have arranged for you to use the herb garden,” she said. “There is a chess table there. I know you are fond of the game and the Guild has told me that Dorian is a skilled player as well.”

Cullen nodded and Josephine sighed as she got to her feet and headed for the door. She disliked seeing this apathy from the man and she began to understand why the Queen was in such a state over him. 

“Have a good day,” she said, not knowing what else to say, and when he waved a hand, she left, her worry eating at her. She could only hope that Dorian would have more success than they had in giving Cullen some interest in life in Skyhold.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Dorian meet, chat and play chess. Dorian cheats, Cullen finds this amusing and they get along rather well. Certainly better than Cullen expected.

Cullen paced back and forth in the herb garden. He almost decided not to come but in the end, what choice did he have? He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced over at the chess table. He’d set the pieces up and beside the chess table was a smaller table that held a bottle of light wine and a plate of small cakes. That part was Josephine’s doing. He was not looking forward to this meeting. He couldn’t imagine that he could be of any interest to this courtesan and he’d been around long enough to know when someone was faking friendship. He’d always loathed that.

“Good morning.”

Cullen whirled around, his hand falling to grip a pommel that wasn’t there. While he hadn’t been specifically banned from wearing either weapon or armour, not even the Queen’s Champion wore anything other than light armour around Skyhold. He hadn’t wanted to stand out.

“Uh, good morning,” he said, letting his hands drop awkwardly to his sides.

He took the opportunity to take a good look at the courtesan. Dorian was about the same height as him but with darker skin. His eyes were grey and full of lively intelligence. His black hair was cut short and shorn on the sides of his head. He had a meticulously kept moustache that curled at the ends and he was wearing unusual robes over a leather tunic and trousers. He was also incredibly handsome.

“Dorian Pavus,” the courtesan said with a small bow. “And you must be Prince Cullen.”

“Uh, yes,” Cullen said. He hesitated for a moment before offering his hand. “Um, pleased to meet you.”

Dorian sauntered over and shook his hand, looking at him with interest. “Likewise, Your Highness.”

“Cullen.” He shifted awkwardly. “Please, call me Cullen.”

Dorian smiled, clearly trying to get him at ease. “Of course, Cullen. I must say, they didn’t tell me how handsome you are.”

Cullen shied back a bit at that and Dorian very deliberately took a step backwards.

“I do apologise,” he said carefully. “I take it flattery isn’t welcome?”

Cullen grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. “No, I’m sorry. It’s just… we don’t have courtesans in Fereldan. I’m not sure…”

“What to expect?” Dorian said, his smile returning. “Well, how about we sit down and we can talk about it?”

Cullen nodded and they walked over to the chess table. Cullen gestured for Dorian to choose a side and smiled a little when the courtesan chose black and then poured wine for the two of them.

“White goes first,” Dorian said, waving a hand in invitation.

Cullen managed a weak smile and moved one of his pawns. “Josephine said you’re a skilled chess player.”

Dorian chuckled and made his move. “I am, though I’ve been told I’m too impatient to be a true master of the game.”

Cullen stared down at the board and shifted one of his pieces. “So… uh…”

“A courtesan is a companion,” Dorian said, taking sympathy on him with a smile. “You’re not required to have sex with me and, well, many courtesans do become friends with their clients but that happens with time and similar interests. I have simply been hired to offer you…” He gestured to the board. “A chess partner. Someone who can show you around Skyhold. I can accompany you to court functions so that you don’t have to put up with the dreary company that is so common at such things.”

Dorian made his move and then said rather delicately, “I was given to understand that you have not… settled in very comfortably.”

Cullen sighed and ran a hand down his face. “It’s that obvious, is it?”

“It is,” Dorian replied. “I might add that courtesans can also act as confidants. Completely confidential confidants. Though the Crown is paying for me, my loyalty is to _you_. Not even the Queen is entitled to know anything you tell me. I take that sort of thing very seriously.”

“Really?” Cullen said dubiously. “I mean, not that you take it seriously but that…”

“The rest of it?” Dorian smiled. “It’s true. If members of the Guild went around blabbing secrets we learned in the course of our duties, we’d end up with no clients whatsoever. It’s very unprofessional.”

Cullen winced a little at the idea of being a _client_ , of being Dorian’s ‘professional duty’ but having someone he could talk to that absolutely would not tell anyone else what he’d said was a very attractive idea.

He looked down at the chess board then moved one of his knights. “I’ve gone from being a Templar and in training to eventually become Lord Marshal to being…” He grimaced. “Nothing.”

“Ah,” Dorian said before making his move. “Yes, we don’t exactly have a standing army.”

“I always wondered how that could be but then I got here and saw for myself.”

Dorian chuckled. “Yes, the mountains are an army in and of themselves. Between the Spymaster’s Irregulars and the Guard, we have all the protection we need.” He cocked his head curiously. “You can’t join the Guard?”

Cullen shook his head. “It’s not a good look for the Prince Consort to be slumming it with the Guardsmen and women or so I’ve been told. I’m a little overqualified at any rate. The only job I _am_ qualified for is Guard Captain and…”

“And that’s taken by the Queen’s lover,” Dorian finished with a nod. “I see.”

“I’ve never been good at… well, at being a courtier and I don’t have any other skills I can use here,” Cullen said gloomily.

“Not at the moment.” Dorian raised an eyebrow. “But there must be something you can do. We just have to figure it out.”

“We?”

Dorian grinned. “I’m more than willing to help and I do know the city rather well.”

Cullen looked at him curiously. “Were you born here? You don’t… look like a native.”

“No,” Dorian replied and Cullen noticed the man became a little more guarded. “I’m from Tevinter originally. I had some philosophical disagreements with my parents and my country and decided to try my luck elsewhere. I ended up in Haven by chance and sort of fell into being a courtesan.”

Cullen blinked. The only people from Tevinter that he’d met were the slavers that occasionally ventured into Ferelden and the occasional rogue mage who was trying to stir up trouble. Tevinter had a reputation for blood magic and other unsavoury things but Dorian didn’t seem the type and Cullen wondered if those philosophical disagreements had something to do with blood magic.

“You didn’t want to do something else?”

Dorian shrugged. “I’m a mage so there were plenty of opportunities but nothing that particularly grabbed by attention. This still gives me the chance to do my own research but I also get to meet interesting people.” He smiled rather wickedly. “And I certainly don’t mind the sex.”

Cullen blushed. “Oh.”

“It pays rather well and we do get to pick and choose our clients,” Dorian continued blithely, deliberately ignoring Cullen’s blush and startled reaction. “We’re not forced to accept any client. For example, today was as much for me to meet you as for you to meet me.”

“It is?” Cullen said feeling something inside himself finally relax and he realised that it hadn’t only been his lack of choice that had been nagging at him, it had been the idea of someone being forced to spend time with him that had rankled just as much.

Dorian seemed to realise that and he leaned over the board, placing his hand over Cullen’s. “It is,” he said firmly. “And I can say right now that I wouldn’t find it a hardship at all to spend time with you.”

Cullen blushed and concentrated on the chess game for a moment. He still wasn’t particularly comfortable with the idea of a courtesan but Dorian wasn’t exactly what he was expecting and he hadn’t detected any false notes in what the man had said to him. It might be nice to have someone he could trust and talk to about what was on his mind. 

“So tell me about yourself,” Dorian said, moving his rook in what Cullen considered to be a very ill-advised move considering the state of the game. “How did you end up becoming a Templar?”

Cullen shrugged. “I entered army training when I was thirteen. I’d begged my parents to let me and I think they were just relieved that I had something I wanted to do so they were more than willing to let me do it.”

“Were they afraid you were going to end up as a wastrel prince or something?” Dorian said with amusement.

“Possibly,” Cullen replied with a chuckle. “My oldest sister took a long time to find her place and she got up to some interesting things before that. I think they were worried that as the youngest of four, I might be a bit aimless.”

“But you obviously liked the army?”

Cullen nodded. “I did and I was thrilled to be accepted into the Templars when I was eighteen. They don’t take many and it was one of the few times when I’ve been sure I got something based on my skill and not the fact I’m a prince.”

Dorian frowned and titled his head back. “You must have been a Templar during the Blight.”

“Just out of training,” Cullen said with a grimace. “It wasn’t a good time. There’s very little in the way of reliable records about the Fourth Blight so we weren’t expecting the Emissaries.”

“Darkspawn mages, yes?” Dorian moved his knight and looked smug. “Of varying types and strengths?”

Cullen snorted and perused the board. “Yes and they’re nasty. All the Templars were downing lyrium potions day and night to keep our abilities at a strong enough level to combat them.”

He felt Dorian’s stare and looked up to see the courtesan giving him a stricken look. That was when he remembered that Dorian was also a mage.

“But…” Dorian frowned. “You must have all become addicted.”

Cullen nodded. “We did. We didn’t care at the time because none of us knew if we were even going to survive after Loghain’s treachery and frankly we needed to do it.” He grimaced. “It was pretty unpleasant afterwards though.”

“I can imagine,” Dorian said with a shudder.

“It wasn’t as bad as it could have been.” Cullen smiled a little at Dorian’s disbelieving look. “The addiction wasn’t long term so while the withdrawal was pretty ugly, it wasn’t like any of us had formed habits around it.”

“But still,” Dorian said.

Cullen nodded his understanding. “But still. There’s still some physical effects. I get headaches on occasion, more so if I’m stressed. And I have episodes of withdrawal symptoms that rear their head from time to time. But mostly I’m okay.”

“We heard some rumours here that not everyone had such a smooth time,” Dorian said, frowning at the chess board and Cullen’s latest move.

“No,” Cullen said grimly. “Some didn’t cope with the withdrawal very well and others ended up back on the lyrium or if they couldn’t get that, they went looking for whatever they could get. Lyrium dust mostly. I… I lost a good friend to that.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said and Cullen could see that he was sincere.

“They don’t know why some people were able to cope and others… couldn’t,” Cullen said, managing a small smile in acceptance of the sympathy.

Dorian raised an eyebrow. “The power must have been enjoyable.”

Cullen frowned. “I… not really. It was necessary but… it didn’t feel good. I mean, it felt good to be able to protect people by taking down those Emissaries but the power rush from the lyrium was… dangerous.”

“Maybe that’s why you succeeded,” Dorian pointed out. “Blood magic is similar. Everyone starts out thinking they can control it. That they won’t go too far. They’ll just use it a little, just use their own blood. Some of them realise the danger and back off, not liking the nature of the power. Others though… they like the power. They’re the ones who end up sacrificing their slaves and other people.”

Cullen blinked. “I… don’t really know much about blood magic.”

“It was one of the few things my father and I ever agreed on,” Dorian said and his smile was bitter as he moved one of his Divines. “Blood magic was resort of the weak mind was always what he said. My… my mentor at home was also rather against it. Said it was a slippery slope that was best avoided.”

“Huh,” Cullen said, peering at the board and trying to figure out what Dorian was doing. “We always thought everyone used blood magic in Tevinter.”

Dorian snorted and looked amused, much to Cullen’s relief when he realised how that must sound. “I know. I do love the stereotypes that persist. Blood mages in Tevinter, Fereldan dog lords, Orlesian fops and so on. We think everyone in the south are savages so we can’t claim any moral high ground.”

“We do like our dogs,” Cullen said with a wry smile. 

“You don’t have one?”

Cullen shook his head. “I used to but she… was Blighted and I had to put her down.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said but Cullen waved it away.

“It was a long time ago. I’ve thought about trying for another puppy but I’ve never really had the time when there have been litters available.”

Dorian moved his rook and looked up, a small smile paying around his lips. “I’ve heard that you don’t pick the puppy, they pick you.”

“That’s true.”

Dorian looked up and realised Cullen was totally serious. 

“Really?”

Cullen laughed. “Yes. Mabari aren’t like normal dogs. They’re intelligent, more than capable of understanding speech and complex commands. It’s considered an honour for one to imprint on you.”

“The stories in Tevinter say they were originally bred by Magisters but when we invaded Ferelden, the dogs decided they liked your lot better and defected.”

Cullen smirked, a mischievous look that surprised Dorian by making his heart thump in his chest. That smirk made the scar on the Fereldan’s lip twist in a very attractive way and made the man look utterly gorgeous. 

“Sounds like they had good taste.”

“Hmph,” Dorian said with amusement. “Maybe they just like the mud and dirt.”

“You’re just jealous,” Cullen said, laughing. He fixed Dorian with a mock glare. “Also you palmed that pawn.”

Dorian affected a shocked look and placed his hand on his chest. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

Cullen gave him an amused look. “Yes.”

“I am offended,” Dorian said, unable to stop laughing.

Cullen gestured. “Hand over the pawn, Dorian, and no one will get hurt.”

Dorian dug the pawn out of his robes and tossed it at Cullen. He set it down on the board where it had been and Dorian could only be impressed at his memory.

“Note to self,” he said. “Cheat more subtly.”

Cullen couldn’t help laughing at that. “Or don’t cheat at all.”

“Where’s the fun in that?

Cullen shook his head, still grinning, and moved his rook. “Check, by the way.”

Dorian sat up and peered down at the board. “What? Maker’s balls. How did you manage that?”

“I was paying attention,” Cullen said, smiling.

Dorian was firmly of the opinion that Cullen’s smile should be illegal but he kept that to himself given how jumpy the man had been the last time he’d complimented him. He’d have been concerned but the Seneschal’s request had specified a male courtesan and suggested that there was a possibility of the liaison extending to the bedroom at some point. Lady Montilyet did not get such things wrong. Still, Cullen had told him that they didn’t have courtesans in Fereldan so perhaps that explained things.

“Well, now I am as well,” Dorian said, giving Cullen a stern look that drew a laugh from the man.

Cullen waited until Dorian had made his move then he smirked. “Too late.” He moved his queen. “Checkmate.”

Dorian stared at the board then laughed. “Good game. It’s been a long time since I’ve been beaten. I demand a rematch.”

“I think that can be arranged,” Cullen said, his smile turning a little shy.

Dorian found that he was inordinately pleased about that. “Shall we meet tomorrow morning then?”

“I’d like that,” Cullen said then he hesitated. “I, uh… haven’t seen much of the city as yet.”

“Perhaps we can combine the two then,” Dorian replied. “I know a little place in the city where we could get a meal _and_ play chess.”

“Alright,” Cullen said. “Shall I meet you somewhere?”

“I’ll meet you here?” Dorian said.

They agreed to that and Cullen walked Dorian to the entrance to the garden. Josephine was waiting for them there and they made some small talk before Dorian bid them goodbye and left. Josephine turned to Cullen and smiled.

“It went well then?”

Cullen blushed a little then nodded with a wry smile. “Yes, it did. We’re, uh… meeting again tomorrow.”

Josephine looked pleased. “That’s wonderful. The Queen will be pleased.”

Cullen was jolted back to reality, reminded that Dorian wasn’t his friend, he was being paid to spend time with him. His smile dimmed and he nodded stiffly.

“Well, that’s, uh… good.” He gave Josephine a nod. “I… have to go.”

He turned and walked away. Josephine watched him go and sighed, hoping she hadn’t made things worse.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian takes out into the city. Cullen finds a sword and meets Varric and Dorian gets a little backstory from Josephine.

Dorian knew something wasn’t quite right when he arrived at the herb garden the next morning. Cullen was pacing again and instead of greeting him with a smile, he nodded stiffly, as awkward and out of sorts as he’d been when they’d first met the previous day. Dorian was about to ignore that when he decided to beard the lion in his den.

“Cullen, is everything alright?”

Cullen gave him a tight smile but the look in his eyes was unhappy.

“Oh dear,” Dorian said. “You’re backsliding again, Cullen. Remember, I’m here by choice.”

Cullen managed a weak smile. “Right. Yes.”

Dorian slid his arm into Cullen’s, ignoring the man’s slightly spooked look. “Let’s go.”

It took until they were outside the Stronghold for Cullen to start relaxing. Dorian had kept up a light conversation in the meantime but he let it die naturally as he watched Cullen look around the city.

“You really haven’t been out into the city, have you?”

Cullen gave a start then shook his head. “No. I saw a bit when we arrived here but I…” He sighed. “I haven’t really been… doing much of anything.”

“Well, that has to change,” Dorian said lightly, mostly to hide his concern. Cullen had told him yesterday that he’d been feeling out of place here but he hadn’t realised it had been so bad.

“I guess it has already,” Cullen said with a small smile. “So how does this place work? I know it’s spread over several mountains but… how?”

Dorian let the subject drop and started explaining as they walked. “Skyhold was originally just the Stronghold as it’s called now but after Dagna arrived, it expanded considerably.”

“Dagna is…?”

“A dwarf. You haven’t met her? Short, almost scarily cheery?” Dorian raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yes!” Cullen said. “She was there are the celebration after the wedding. I spoke to her for a few minutes but then I was dragged away.”

Dorian noted that Cullen called it ‘the wedding’ and not ‘my wedding’. “Yes, well, she arrived here about forty years ago, when Queen Evelyn’s father was still on the throne.”

“Forty years?” Cullen said, giving him a disbelieving look. “She doesn’t look more than twenty!”

“She’s a dwarf,” Dorian said.

“We have dwarves in Ferelden, you know,” Cullen said. “They live about the same length of time as we do.”

Dorian frowned. “Huh.”

“Don’t they have dwarves in Tevinter?”

“Yes but I was a little busy…” Dorian paused and looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Well, I was busy when I was last there.”

“So how does Dagna look twenty when she must be over sixty?” Cullen asked.

“No idea,” Dorian said. “You can ask her, if you like.”

Cullen hesitated. “I might pass on that. So, you were saying about Skyhold?”

“Right, yes.” Dorian gestured towards the bridge they were about to cross. “She was the one to plan out all the bridges and tunnels and work out how to build the houses and walkways. She’s also the one who built all the traps in the mountains that mean we don’t need an army.”

“She did all this in forty years?” Cullen said, looking impressed. 

“They say she built some very impressive machinery that helped make it easier.” Dorian shrugged. “That the best I can do. I only arrived here about three years ago so I’ve never seen them. The bulk of the construction work was done decades ago. They do some additional work from time to time but it’s not exactly the sort of place that I’m likely to go.”

They’d crossed the bridge by now and descended into a tunnel. The tunnel was lit by some sort of strange lighting system that made it bright enough easily see. The walls of the tunnel were lined with stalls of various types and here and there between the stalls, smaller tunnels branched off and lead to places unknown. Their pace slowed as Cullen looked around until they reached a stall that sold weapons. He slowed even further until Dorian laughed.

“We can stop and look, you know. We’re not on a time line.”

Cullen gave him a bashful smile and headed for the stall. The stall owner looked up with disinterest that suddenly focused when he recognised his latest customer. Dorian came up beside Cullen and kept an eye on the owner. He was probably just looking for a sale but as part of his contract, he was to provide bodyguard services and he took his job seriously.

“Can I interest you in anything in particular, Your Highness?”

Cullen looked up, startled, and Dorian was amused when he blushed. “I, uh… the swords?”

The owner gestured to one side of the stall where a number of fine swords lay. Cullen immediately peered at them, picking them up one after the other and weighing them in his hand. He seemed almost disappointed but the owner grinned and disappeared behind the stall. He emerged with a large flat box and laid it on the table. He opened it and displayed three swords nestled into the interior and even Dorian could tell that they were of a much higher quality than the ones Cullen had been looking at.

“These are magnificent,” Cullen said, his eyes bright and excited as he lifted the first one out of the case.

“I keep the good ones for the customers who know the difference,” the owner said smugly. “Try the other two.”

Cullen did so eagerly but Dorian noticed he kept coming back to one in particular. It wasn’t the fanciest of the three. It was made from everite and the hilt was bound with some sort of dark leather. The quality of the blade was astonishing and the pommel stone was a dark ruby.

Cullen bit his bottom lip as he held the sword expertly. “How much?”

“For you, Your Highness, nothing,” the owner said with a grin.

Cullen’s eyes widened. “I can’t accept this for free.”

“Consider it a wedding gift,” the owner suggested and Dorian winced, unsure how well that would go over given how Cullen had distanced himself verbally and emotionally from the wedding the previous day.

Cullen shook his head. “You have to let me…”

“The smith who gave these to me had me set these aside to be given away,” the owner said soberly. “He’s new to Skyhold and he’s still trying to make his name. “ He gestured to the blades on the tables. “Most of these are his but they’re normal work. Good enough but rote work you might say. These ones are special.”

“Who is he?” Cullen asked.

“A Fereldan actually,” the owner said. “Like you. His name’s Wade. He’s an odd man but his partner swore to me that his work is the best. I think that sword in your hand proves it. Anyway, those three swords are the ones Herren said to give away.” He chuckled. “I think it pained him to say that but as long as you tell everyone where you got it, you’ll make them more money than you would have paid for the sword. And I get my share of the profits as well.”

Cullen looked down at the sword with a frown. Dorian could tell he was torn between accepting the offer and insisting on paying. He decided to see if he could tip the scales one way or the other.

“You should have a weapon,” he said, placing his hand on Cullen’s back. “That blade’s light enough to be worn without armour so you could wear it around the court.”

Cullen looked at him with surprise. “I thought… no one else does.”

“Cassandra does,” Dorian replied. “So does Blackwall and the guards. You’re a Templar. No one would bat an eyelid if you were wearing one.”

“Really?” Cullen said dubiously then he frowned. “I haven’t seen Cassandra wearing a blade.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow at him. “And how often have you been out and about again?”

Cullen blushed and ducked his head for a moment. “Good point,” he said with a wry smile. He looked over at the owner. “I’d be honoured to accept it. Thank you.”

The owner beamed and pulled a scabbard and belt out from under the tables and handed it over. “I’m sure Wade and Herren will thank _you_ actually, Your Highness.”

Cullen pulled on the belt and scabbard then sheathed the sword. As Dorian watched, something about him changed. He stood a little straighter and seemed a lot calmer. It was as though having the sword had grounded him in some way, made him complete and given him back some confidence. They exchanged a bit more in the way of small talk with the stall owner then they continued on their way. Dorian noticed that Cullen’s hand drifted down to the hilt of the sword almost automatically as though it belonged there.

“Suits you,” Dorian said with a raised eyebrow.

“I… didn’t realise how much I missed having a sword at my side,” Cullen said, looking adorably bashful.

“You’re a soldier,” Dorian said. “It makes sense.”

“You might be right,” Cullen said with a chuckle. “So where are we going?”

“It’s not far,” Dorian said. “It’s a little place that’s owned by a friend of mine.”

They turned off the main tunnel and through a smaller one that emerged onto a walkway. The walkway curved around the side of the mountain and ended at a door. Dorian opened it and gestured for Cullen to enter. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but a rather sedate tavern wasn’t it. The tavern was well-lit and a few of the people inside were either reading or writing. One of them was a beardless dwarf who looked up as they entered. He smiled and got to his feet.

“Sparkler! Good to see you. Where have you been?”

Dorian rolled his eyes. “Morning, Varric. I do have a job, you know.”

“That’s never stopped you before.” Varric looked at Cullen with interest then his eyes widened momentarily in what Cullen was sure was recognition and he tried to await the inevitable response without cringing. “Welcome to the Hanged Man, Curly. I’m Varric Tethras.”

Cullen blinked and one hand went automatically to his hair before he dropped it. That wasn’t quite what he’d expected. “Uh, hello.” He frowned. “Wait… Varric Tethras? Didn’t you write Hard in Hightown?”

Varric looked incredibly smug as he looked over at Dorian. “Ha! See? I told you it was my most popular book.”

Dorian rolled his eyes and dragged Cullen over to the table Varric had been sitting at. “Yes, because one person recognising your name in conjunction with one book always means it’s wildly popular.” 

In fairly short order, Cullen found himself sitting down opposite the dwarf with Dorian at his side and tankards of ale in front of all of them. It had all happened so fast, he couldn’t actually recall _how_ it had happened.

“Come on,” Varric said, grinning. “Curly’s from Ferelden. If they’ve read Hard in Hightown there, it’s definitely my most popular.”

“Or they had nothing better to do,” Dorian said dryly. “I mean, if I’m making a choice between mud and dogs and your book, even I’d choose your book.”

“The ladies of the court quite like Swords & Shields as well,” Cullen said, a small smile curving his lips.

“Ha! Admit it, Dorian. I’m famous,” Varric crowed, looking pleased that Cullen had joined in their friendly bickering.

Dorian placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look wounded. “Cullen! I can’t believe you’ve turned on me. For _shame_!”

“I can only speak the truth,” Cullen said giving them his best innocent look.

“Face it, Sparkler, you’re outnumbered,” Varric said smugly.

“Ugh! This is the worst day ever.” Dorian pretended to pout and poked his tongue out at both of them. “I hate you all.”

“Of course you do, Sparkler,” Varric said patiently. The door opened and Varric looked over, his eyes narrowing. “I’ll leave you boys to it. I’ve got to see a man about a flaming bird.”

Cullen watched the dwarf wander over to the rather shady looking man who had just walked in then turned back to Dorian. “Flaming bird?”

“I don’t know and I don’t want to know.” Dorian patted him on the shoulder. “I run by the theory that’s it’s always best to not ask with Varric because I might not like the answer or worse, I might have to do something about the answer. Varric’s very good at getting other people to do his dirty work. He always writes a nice heroic story about it but still…”

Cullen raised an eyebrow dubiously. “So why…?”

“Stick around?” Dorian said. “Because Varric, despite his flaws, is a good friend.” He smiled wryly. “He was also the first person who didn’t give a damn that I was from Tevinter.”

Suddenly the fact that Varric had apparently completely ignored the fact that he was the Prince Consort made sense. It also made him feel better. It was nice to not have people fawn over him and Dorian and Varric were the first to act like he was a person and not just a title. He smiled a little then took a drink of the ale he’d been given.

“Maker’s breath!” He gagged a little. “What _is_ this?”

Dorian laughed. “I’m sorry. I should have warned you. Varric has utterly _appalling_ taste in ale. I think his taste buds must have been burned off in a tragic accident in his youth or something.”

“He _drinks_ this?” Cullen said.

“He does.” Dorian chuckled. “He actually likes this swill. Don’t worry. He’ll bring out the decent stuff once I’ve whined at him enough.”

Cullen gave him an odd look then chuckled. “Do you whine at everyone?”

“Only when they have things I want,” Dorian said. “Like excellent wine.”

Cullen laughed then sobered. “Thank you for this, Dorian. I’ve never been very good at meeting people on my own.”

“A prince who isn’t good at meeting people?” Dorian said. “Isn’t that a contradiction in terms?”

“I’m more of a soldier than I am a prince,” Cullen replied. “And everyone knew what I was like back home.”

Dorian cocked his head curiously. “Feel free to tell me to bugger off but… why you? Why did you get chosen to marry Queen Evelyn?”

“I was the only option,” Cullen said with a shrug. “I have three other siblings but they’re all married already. So that just left me.”

“No convenient nephews or cousins?”

Cullen snorted. “My nephews are far too young and my cousins are married as well. So…” He sighed heavily. “I got stuck with it.”

Dorian arched an eyebrow and looked amused. “You make it sound like a chore.”

“No!” Cullen said with wide eyes. “I don’t mean it like that. The Queen has been… very kind.” He sighed and scrubbed his face with one hand. “It’s not like she had much choice either.”

“And she already has someone she’s in love with,” Dorian added.

Cullen winced. “Yeah. I don’t think Captain Blackwall likes me very much.”

“You’re younger than he is and very handsome,” Dorian pointed out. “You’re a threat.”

Cullen snorted though Dorian noticed there was a pink tinge to his cheeks. Perhaps Cullen wasn’t quite as immune to compliments as he’d thought. 

“I’m no threat to him. Besides, if the Queen loves _him_ , then I’m not exactly her type.”

“Would you like it if you were?”

Cullen shot Dorian a confused look. “I… don’t know. I’ve never found it very… easy with women. They always seem to have expectations that I can’t meet. I’ve always been more comfortable with men.”

Now Dorian had his explanation as to why he’d… or rather a man… been chosen and not any of the female courtesans. Between Lady Montilyet and the Spymaster, they’d no doubt already figured this out about Cullen. He’d been unsure initially as to why he’d been chosen after Cullen’s reaction to his flirting, thinking perhaps he’d been selected simply because the Queen didn’t want any female competition, but now he suspected he’d been chosen because the Queen and her advisors believed that Cullen might be more comfortable with him both as a friend and as a bed partner. 

“Ah, here’s Varric,” Dorian said with an expansive wave of one hand. “Have you finished swindling everyone?”

“Not yet,” Varric replied. “There’s still a few people left in Skyhold that I haven’t swindled.”

Dorian pointed at the tankard in front of him. “You certainly swindle people into thinking this is ale.”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” Varric said amiably, walking behind the bar and emerging with two dusty bottles of wine. He plunked them down on the table then found two goblets and placed them in front of Dorian and Cullen. “You’re a snob, Sparkler.”

“Absolutely,” Dorian said as he levered the cork out of the first bottle. “And proud of it.” He poured the wine into the goblets. “There, Cullen. Try something that won’t pucker your mouth and make your stomach heave.”

Cullen laughed as Varric pretended to look offended.

“Now, Sparkler,” the dwarf said. “My ale is the finest…”

“Rat piss in the land,” Dorian finished for him, his tone dry. “I know.”

“You just have no appreciation for good ale,” Varric said.

“Varric?” Dorian said seriously. “Though I prefer wine, I do know good ale from bad ale. This…” He pointed to the tankard in front of him. “…is bad ale.”

“Aw, come on, Curly, are you going to stick up for me again?” Varric said to Cullen.

“I’m sorry, Varric,” Cullen said soberly though there was amusement gleaming in his eyes, much to Dorian’s delight. “The ale is terrible.”

Varric waved a hand in a good natured manner. “Pshaw. The two of you don’t know your ales. Now, is there anything else I can get you?”

“A chess board?” Dorian asked. “And perhaps some food that isn’t going to reappear in a hurry.”

Varric laughed and headed back behind the bar again. When he came back, he had a chess board and a box with the pieces under one arm and a plate with some cheese and bread in the other hand. “Here you go, gents. Now I have to get back to work.”

Varric wandered back down to the end of the table where there were papers strewn across the surface while Dorian and Cullen set up the chess board. They settled into a game, exchanging quips and mild insults, barely noticing when the crowd built up around the midday then died off again in the afternoon. It was only when Dorian conceded the game in amused disgust that they realised how much time had passed.

“Maker, I should get you back to the Stronghold before they start sending out search parties,” Dorian said with a chuckle. 

“Yes… I suppose you’re right,” Cullen said and a little bit of the calm relaxation he’d had during the day evaporated at the thought of returning to the stifling atmosphere of the Stronghold where he wasn’t wanted or needed.

They packed up the chess pieces and placed the board and the box on top of the bar then with a wave to Varric, they left the tavern. Cullen’s steps dragged and Dorian made no attempt to hurry them up. He was, if he was honest with himself, concerned. When he’d arrived at the Stronghold this morning, Cullen had been miserable and withdrawn. He’d cheered up considerably when they bought the sword and were at the tavern but now that they were heading back to the Stronghold, all that good mood was draining out of the man. He’d never really considered what it must be like to be involved in an arranged marriage. He’d escaped that fate when he’d left Tevinter but even before then he hadn’t thought about it. He’d been indulging in some wilful ignorance and frankly his plan at the time had been to spend the bulk of his marriage inebriated so it hadn’t seemed like an issue. Once he’d left, he hadn’t considered the matter any further. 

But here was Cullen, whom he’d admit he was starting to like, stuck in the very thing he’d escaped, only Cullen was well and truly trapped and could do nothing about it. For all that he seemed to have accepted his fate, he didn’t seem to be very happy about it. It was obvious that the Queen and her Council had noticed this, hence the reason he was here, but how long would it take for the rest of the court to notice? And to start using it against the Queen and Cullen? Skyhold wasn’t Val Royeaux but it wasn’t the Ferelden court either. Part of his contract had included bodyguard services, though he hadn’t been given any details as to why. He made a mental note to speak to Lady Montilyet before he left the Stronghold. If he was to do his job, he needed more information.

By the time they got back to the Stronghold, Cullen was almost as morose as the morning. The only thing that seemed to lift his mood was the sword at his hip and Dorian’s quips and comments. On his part, Dorian was careful to hide his concern and once he’d bid the prince goodbye, he went and sought out the Seneschal. He had to wait a few minutes but it wasn’t long before he was ushered into Lady Montilyet’s office.

“Serah Pavus, is there a problem with Prince Cullen?” Josephine asked with a hint of concern.

“No, not as such,” Dorian replied, arranging himself in a pleasing way in his chair. It wasn’t necessary but it was automatic these days. “However, you hired me to act in part as a bodyguard. May I ask why?”

Josephine folded her hands on her desk. “Why do you think that part was included?”

“You’re not going to like it,” Dorian said.

“There are many things I don’t like but I listen to them anyway,” Josephine said blandly.

“Cullen is vulnerable,” Dorian replied bluntly. “He’s desperately unhappy and he’s no Orlesian to be able to hide it. That makes him vulnerable to anyone looking to undermine Queen Evelyn. It also makes the monarchy vulnerable in general. There are many directions a whispering campaign could take but all of them would be vicious and effective, especially with Cullen, who is far too honest for his own good.”

“That is part of it,” Josephine said. She did not look at all surprised that Dorian had figured all that out. Courtesans were renowned for their intelligence and Dorian in particular had a reputation for that. “There have been rumours of a faction growing that opposes Queen Evelyn. Sister Leliana has not been able to find out much about them.”

Both of Dorian’s eyebrows went up at that. Haven’s Spymaster was formidable and there was nothing worth knowing that she didn’t know. If she couldn’t find out information about this group then they were very dangerous.

“I see,” he said slowly. “This faction is considered real then?”

Josephine nodded. “Yes. Sister Leliana has been able to confirm that much at least and you are correct. Prince Cullen is vulnerable. He is not used to this sort of thing.” She paused and looked worried. “You say he is unhappy?”

“You must have noticed,” Dorian replied. “He’s miserable and trying desperately not to show it but failing just as miserably.”

Josephine sighed. “I have noticed. It is my understanding that despite what we were told, he was given little choice about the marriage.”

“Yes, I got that impression too.” Dorian frowned and smoothed his moustache. “I took him out today. Introduced him to Varric and the Hanged Man. He cheered up immensely. The sword helped as well.”

“Sword?”

Dorian chuckled. “We passed a weapons stall just across the main bridge to Theron Mountain. The owner has a new blacksmith called… Wade, I believe. He had three very fine swords put aside for advertising. He gave one to Cullen. It was like the man had been reborn.”

Josephine smiled a little. “That is good to hear. Cassandra intends to talk to him about sparring with her and I believe Captain Blackwall intends to do the same.”

“He thinks Captain Blackwall dislikes him,” Dorian warned.

“I suppose that’s understandable,” Josephine said with a sigh. “I will admit he’s not happy with the situation but I believe the Queen has sorted that out satisfactorily. That is why Captain Blackwall intends to ask him about sparring.”

“If it’s any consolation for the good Captain, Cullen has told me the Queen isn’t exactly his type,” Dorian said. “He also believes he’s not exactly the Queen’s type.”

“I’ll pass that on,” Josephine said. “I believe that will actually set Captain Blackwall’s mind at ease. It’s not easy for him to sit and watch a young, handsome man like Cullen escort his lover around. But if you believe he’s more interested in you than the Queen then that will work well.”

Dorian smiled thinly. “I’m not sure he’s quite there yet but by all means, tell Blackwall that. Anything that makes Cullen’s life easier is good in my books.”

“An artful lie is often useful,” Josephine said with a light laugh.

“That’s what I always say.” Dorian got to his feet and bowed to the Seneschal. “I will take my leave now, I think. I’ll endeavour to spend more time with Cullen now that he’s becoming more comfortable with me.”

“He has not invited you to his bed?” Josephine asked.

Dorian shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to happen quickly. He’s still not entirely comfortable with the idea of courtesans.”

“Do the best you can,” Josephine said, rising to her feet and escorting him to the door.

Dorian kissed the back of her hand then took his leave.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen meets Cassandra and Blackwall and has his mind set at ease.

When the knock came at his door, Cullen broke out into a small smile. He and Dorian hadn’t made any firm plans to meet today but after the previous day, he was expecting him to come anyway. His first Council meeting was scheduled for the afternoon but there was plenty of time this morning to either play another game of chess or he was hoping that Dorian might come up with something else. So he was looking forward to seeing Dorian when he opened the door, only to reveal a woman he recognised but couldn’t immediately place.

“Good morning,” he said hesitantly, his good mood evaporating in an instant.

“Good morning, Your Highness,” the woman said briskly. “I am Cassandra Pentaghast.”

Now Cullen knew who she was. Cassandra Pentaghast was the Queen’s Champion. It was a curious title and Cullen hadn’t quiet worked out precisely what her duties were. All he did know was that Haven’s monarchs had always had a Champion and it was specified that if the monarch was male the Champion was male and if the monarch was female, so too was the Champion. Hence the reason that Queen Evelyn’s Champion was Cassandra Pentaghast. 

“Um, hello,” he said before stepping back and gesturing for her to enter. “How… er, how can I help you?”

“You were a Templar, were you not?” Cassandra asked once she’d entered.

Cullen felt an unpleasant little swoop in his stomach at the past tense. “I… yes,” he said, his mouth turning down.

He didn’t see Cassandra’s eyes narrow and she showed no sign she’d noticed his reaction when she spoke.

“Good. I do not often find a suitable sparring partner. You have a sword, yes? Armour? A shield?”

Cullen brightened a little at the thought of giving his sword a good trial. “Uh, yes. To all of that.”

“Good,” Cassandra said. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked at him expectantly. “Well? Get ready.”

Cullen blinked then hurried into his bedroom. His armour and weapons had been placed on various racks in his room when he’d first moved in and had never been taken off those racks since then. It felt a little strange to be wearing it again but it also felt good. As he was settling his armour in place, he heard another voice in the other room.

“Good morning, Lady Pentaghast.”

It was Dorian and Cullen felt immediately cheered. He strapped on his sword and slung his shield over his shoulder and stepped out into the other room.

“Good morning, Dorian,” he said with a genuine smile. He didn’t notice Cassandra’s raised eyebrow at the expression, one that was a complete contrast to the one that has greeted her.

“Good morning,” Dorian said. He raised an eyebrow at the sight of Cullen in armour. It wasn’t what he was expecting. Although Cullen was entitled to wear Templar armour, he was instead wearing something much simpler. Leather trousers, chest piece, arm guards and gauntlets with a fur-collared mantle over the top. It should have looked ridiculous but it actually rather suited Cullen. “Have I interrupted something?”

“Uh, Cassandra’s asked me to spar with her,” Cullen said hesitantly.

“Do I get to watch?” Dorian asked with a curl of a coy smile.

Cullen blinked and blushed a little at the smile. “Um, yes, if you’d like.”

“I’m rather intrigued,” Dorian said. He looked over at Cassandra and she nodded slightly, indicating her agreement and approval. “Shall we?”

They made their way down to the salle where Dorian ensconced himself on a bench and Cullen and Cassandra started warming up. Once they were ready, they started their sparring bout. Dorian watched with interest as first circled each other warily, occasionally lashing out to get a feel for the other’s skill level. Soon enough, they launched into a more serious form of combat and Dorian could tell that they were very evenly matched. Cullen had the advantage of height and strength but Cassandra was quicker. Dorian was skilled with staves and with light blades but it was quite a treat to watch two warriors go at each other in full armour and with swords and shields. The way they clobbered each other with their weapons and shields made him wince more than once but both Cullen and Cassandra were grinning wildly by halfway through the bout.

Eventually he saw that Cassandra was going to win. Cullen was tiring quicker than she was, probably because he hadn’t been training every day since from before the wedding. He made a mental note to watch them again when Cullen was back in fighting trim. That would be a bout well worth watching. That was when he became aware that someone had joined him. He would have blushed a little at being caught out like that but as far as he was concerned, who wouldn’t be utterly distracted by the sight in front of him.

“Captain Blackwall,” he said with a nod.

“Serah Pavus,” the Guard Captain said gruffly in return. “He’s good.”

“That he is,” Dorian replied. “Though Cassandra is going to win.”

“I can see that.” Blackwall grunted. “He’s out of condition.”

“Yes, he is.”

Silence fell between them as they watched the bout start to wind towards its inevitable conclusion. Dorian winced when Cassandra finally got the opening she’d been looking for and sent Cullen crashing down onto his back. She had her sword at his throat in an instant.

“Yield,” she demanded.

Cullen smiled wryly. “I yield.”

Cassandra smiled and sheathed her sword. She then offered him her hand and pulled him to his feet. “Well fought. I had heard that Fereldan Templars were formidable. You certainly live up to the reputation.”

Cullen grimaced. “I’m out of form.”

“Then you shall meet either me or Captain Blackwall here every morning and we shall see that you get back into form,” Cassandra said firmly.

Cullen’s eyes widened at the mention of Blackwall’s name and he swallowed hard when the man in question came over. Dorian could see the look of apprehension that appeared on Cullen’s face and if he could then he knew Cassandra and Blackwall could as well. He just hoped that the taciturn Guard Captain had the skill and tact to handle this.

“Uh… Captain Blackwall,” Cullen said, quickly sheathing his sword and offering his hand.

“Prince Cullen,” Blackwall said, shaking his hand amiably. “My apologies for not introducing myself properly sooner.”

A faint smile appeared on Cassandra’s face and she patted Cullen on the shoulder. “I must take my leave. I look forward to our next bout, Your Highness.”

“Uh, yes, thank you,” Cullen stammered. “So... so am I.”

Cassandra strode out of the room, sparing a nod for Dorian. Cullen watched her go a little forlornly then squared his shoulders and faced the Guard Captain.

“Evelyn has informed me, in no uncertain terms, that I’m being an idiot,” Blackwall said gruffly. 

“Uh, I believe it’s generally accepted that the Queen is always right,” Cullen ventured.

Blackwall laughed and clapped Cullen on the shoulder. “That she is.” He gave the prince a shrewd look. “I’m not your enemy, lad. Evie told me right from the start that she couldn’t marry me, that there was always a possibility she might need to make an alliance marriage and she had to do what was right for Haven. I accepted that then and I still accept it now. Now, I expect to see you down here tomorrow morning first thing.”

He clapped Cullen on the shoulder again and walked out of the salle. Cullen stared after him then walked over and dropped down on the bench beside Dorian. Only then could Dorian see that Cullen was shaking a little.

“You alright?” he asked quietly.

Cullen nodded. “I… that wasn’t what I was expecting from him.”

“Sounds like the Queen laid down the law,” Dorian said lightly.

“I… yes.” Cullen sighed and pushed himself to his feet. “If you can wait, I desperately need a bath.”

Dorian swallowed down the immediate response he wanted to make. Despite the camaraderie of the previous day, he didn’t think Cullen would be comfortable with his more blatant flirting.

“Of course,” he said. He got to his feet and the next words slipped out without conscious thought. “Want someone to wash your back?”

Cullen blushed a brilliant crimson and Dorian was caught between smacking himself in the face and grinning. So much for his vow to not make Cullen uncomfortable.

“I apologise…” he began but Cullen interrupted before he could say anything more.

“Um… maybe another time.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. Cullen wasn’t looking at him and his face was so red it was a wonder he hadn’t keeled over but he’d definitely said those words.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.

They left the salle and headed back to Cullen’s room. The prince disappeared into the bathing room and Dorian settled on the couch. He was still smiling a little at Cullen’s response to his inadvertent flirting. He didn’t feel inclined to use it as a starting point for something more, at least not yet. He felt that it would be better to let Cullen initiate things between them. He was also willing to admit to himself that he rather liked the wait with Cullen. He enjoyed the man’s company in and of itself. Anything more than that would be a bonus.

When Cullen emerged, Dorian had to swallow down more flirting. He was pretty sure he’d reached the limit of what would make Cullen comfortable today. The man did look gorgeous though. He was wearing just a pair of heavy linen trousers and a cotton shirt and his hair was still a little wet, the water dripping from his blond curls.

“So any requests for what we do today?” he asked to distract himself from the water droplets sliding down Cullen’s neck.

“Um, not really,” Cullen said, pulling on a tunic and picking up his boots. “I have a Council meeting this afternoon though.”

“We can stay here,” Dorian said easily. “I’ve always wanted to raid the Stronghold’s library.”

“It’s very comprehensive,” Cullen said. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” Dorian said.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen attends his first Council meeting and finds out about some of the threats facing Haven. He also confronts something he'd hoped to never see again.

Cullen stepped into the Council chamber, wondering if this was really a good idea. He’d sat in on plenty of his father’s Council meetings but always as an adjunct to the Lord Marshal. He’d known why he was there and what he had to do. This was out of his comfort zone. He had no real position or authority in Skyhold and Haven. It left him feeling like he was at loose ends.

“Good afternoon, Your Highness,” Josephine said from where she was sitting at the table. “Please sit.”

Cullen edged into the room and took a seat at the end of the table. “Hello, Lady Montilyet.”

“I am glad you have come,” Josephine said. “And I apologise again for not including you earlier.”

“That’s… that’s fine,” Cullen said. “I’m… not sure why I’m here, to be honest.”

“You are the Prince Consort,” Josephine said with a frown. “Of course you should be here. Did you not attend Council meetings at home?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes, but I was training to become the next Lord Marshal so I was attending in that aspect.”

“Ah,” Josephine said. “We would certainly welcome anything you can contribute on that subject or anything else that you feel necessary.”

“You don’t exactly have a standing army,” Cullen said. “I don’t think my expertise is required.”

“You never know, Your Highness,” Josephine said as the door opened and the Queen walked in with Captain Blackwall and Sister Leliana. Cassandra followed them and she closed the door behind her.

“Josephine. Cullen,” Evelyn said with a smile as she sat down. “Shall we?”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Josephine said, looking down at her papers. “We have a petition from Duke Corypheus.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Again? Who does he want to persecute now?”

Cullen looked surprised and Evelyn smiled wryly at him. “Duke Corypheus has targeted half a dozen different groups so far. We’re not sure if he’s serious or just causing trouble.”

“Does he often cause trouble?” Cullen asked.

“Yes,” Blackwall grunted. “We just don’t know what his goal is. Other than being annoyed that Evelyn has refused to allow him on the Council or ever listen to his advice.”

“As if I would,” Evelyn said with a snort. “His opinions are archaic. He wants to drag us back into a world that’s no longer relevant.”

“What is the Duke asking for this time?” Leliana said.

“He wants more restrictions on mages,” Josephine replied.

Evelyn frowned. “He’s not serious, is he?”

“Probably not,” Leliana said. “My people still haven’t discovered what he’s really trying to do. He’s a mage himself so he can’t possibly support restrictions on mages.”

“I’ve known mages who support more monitoring,” Cullen said. “Usually after they’ve seen something bad.”

“Oh, there are mages here who support more oversight,” Evelyn said. “But Duke Corypheus has never been one of them. He’s definitely trying to distract us from something.”

“Here,” Josephine said, handing some papers to Cullen. “Have a look at this. Perhaps you can offer a different perspective? We all know the Duke rather well so we may be glossing over something important.”

Cullen took the papers and read them over carefully. He frowned as he did so and the others watched with interest.

“This…” He pointed at a few paragraphs on the second page.

“Which part?” Josephine asked, pulling out a second copy and flipping it open.

“He’s recommending restrictions on blue lyrium,” Cullen said.

“I saw that bit,” Evelyn said with a shrug. “What’s wrong with it?”

Cullen looked at them with surprise. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Blackwall asked, leaning forward.

“There was an incident in Kirkwall.” Cullen shifted awkwardly. “I was there as part of a group of Templars who had been seconded by the Knight-Commander in Kirkwall.” He grimaced. “She’d gone mad but she called for reinforcements before then. We were there for about a year and things were… bad. Mages turning to blood magic and Templars overstepping their bounds. In the end, Meredith went right over the edge. She’d been taking a new form of lyrium. No one knows where she’d got it but it was… red.”

“Red?” Cassandra stepped forward and actually took a seat at the table. “What does it do?”

“I don’t know precisely,” Cullen said. “But it drove Meredith mad and turned her into a statue.”

“I’d heard rumours about that but we were never able to get it confirmed,” Leliana said. “The entire Gallows was closed off and only Templars are permitted on the island. I haven’t been able to sneak anyone past them. They’re unusually alert.”

Cullen nodded. “It was a blood bath in the Gallows so I’m not surprised. I fought in that battle and we lost far too many. The red lyrium gave Meredith… powers beyond those of a normal Templar.”

“I’d like a full report about this later, if you wouldn’t mind,” Leliana said.

“Of course,” Cullen said then he tapped the papers he’d been given. “But the fact he’s so specific about the lyrium in this… well, I don’t know how he could have gotten his hands on the red lyrium or what he’s doing with it but… I don’t like it.”

“I’ll look into it,” Leliana said. “It’s the best lead we’ve had in quite some time. Is there anyone else you know who might have information on this red lyrium?”

Cullen thought about it for a moment. “I’m not sure. I can send some letters to the Order in Ferelden. We all made formal reports when we returned to Denerim. I can ask that they be sent to us here.”

“Would they do that?” Evelyn said dubiously. “The Order isn’t known for its ability to share.”

“I’m a Templar,” Cullen said then he grimaced and his shoulders slumped a little. “Or I was. But they should still be willing to send them to me.”

“Good,” Josephine said. “An information we can get will be useful. I shall ask around and see who Duke Corypheus has been talking to. If he does have his hands on this red lyrium, he must have had it brought in somehow.”

Evelyn nodded. “Good. What’s next?”

The meeting continued and though Cullen didn’t contribute much, he actually felt a bit more comfortable being there. When the meeting ended, he got to his feet and was about to head for the door when Evelyn stopped him.

“May I speak with you, Cullen?”

Cullen nodded awkwardly. “Uh, yes, of course.”

He waited while Evelyn spoke quietly to Blackwall then she joined him, slipping her arm through his as they left the Council chamber.

“Thank you for that,” she said. “We’ve been rather frustrated by Duke Corypheus. We’ve had no idea what he’s been up to. I don’t think any of us would have picked up on that lyrium reference.”

“I, uh, you’re welcome,” Cullen said.

“How are things going with Dorian?” Evelyn asked.

Cullen blushed. “Um, well. I think. He took me into the city yesterday.”

“Where did you end up?”

“The Hanged Man,” Cullen said. “I met Varric Tethras.”

Evelyn laughed. “Maker! He took you there? That’s a hell of an introduction to the city.”

“I liked it,” Cullen said with a shrug. “Dorian knows Varric.”

“That probably does make a difference.”

“And I bought… well, was given a sword,” Cullen said.

“Oh?” Evelyn looked up at him with interest.

Cullen explained what had happened at the weapons stall and Evelyn laughed. 

“That’s a good way of getting business. He must have been thrilled to have you stop there.”

“I’ve told people where I got the sword when I’ve had the opportunity,” Cullen said with a shrug. “Though I haven’t had many opportunities.”

“Tell Cassandra and Blackwall about it,” Evelyn suggested. “They’ll probably want to go there themselves but they’ll certainly pass the word along.”

“I’m sparring with Blackwall tomorrow,” Cullen said.

“Good.” Evelyn laughed. “He was being a bit stubborn about this marriage. I kept telling him he didn’t need to but he’s always been stubborn.”

“He said something along those lines this morning,” Cullen said, finally starting to relax around his wife.

“I threatened to make him sleep in his own rooms,” Evelyn said with a mischievous grin.

Cullen was startled into a laugh. He suspected there was something decidedly odd about talking to his wife about her lover but then again, this wasn’t a normal marriage.

“No wonder he was willing to concede,” Cullen said.

Evelyn smiled and decided to not even _joke_ about the fact that she’d emphasised Cullen’s lack of any real interest in her. She didn’t fault Cullen for it. If anything, it was a relief. Her heart belonged Blackwall and Cullen was a lovely man, whom she might have fallen for if she’d met him ten years ago but not now. All she really wanted from Cullen was his friendship and for that she was going to have to get him past this awkwardness and reticence he was mired in. And perhaps if she could do that, he would be less unhappy. She worried about that for more than just reasons of politics. Neither of them had any choice in this marriage but they had to make the best of it.

“I’ve heard you and Dorian play chess,” she said instead.

Cullen nodded. “We do.”

“Who’s winning?”

Cullen smirked and Evelyn decided she liked that expression on him. “I am. Dorian hasn’t won a game yet.”

“Not that good a player is he?” she asked.

“No, he’s very good actually,” Cullen replied. “He’s just… impetuous. He doesn’t think far enough ahead.”

“I’ve never had much of a head for chess,” Evelyn said. “Admittedly I’ve never really had the patience for it either. Card games are more my speed.”

Cullen blushed and rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. “I’m not that good at card games to be honest. I’m not much for bluffing.”

“Don’t tell Josephine that,” Evelyn said, immediately planning on arranging a game of Wicked Grace as soon as she could manage to get everyone in the same room at the same time. “She’ll take the shirt off your back.” She paused. “Literally. She gets daring as the night goes on.”

Cullen blushed. “I’ll… remember that.”

They turned and climbed the stairs that head to the royal wing and when they reached the top, they found Dorian leaning against the wall next to the door to Cullen’s room.

“Ah, there you are,” Dorian said with a smile then he bowed. “Your Majesty.”

“Serah Pavus,” Evelyn said with a nod.

“You should have gone in,” Cullen said, smiling at the other man.

“I wasn’t sure if I should presume,” Dorian replied, pushing off the wall.

“Presume away,” Cullen said. “I don’t have anything particularly special in there and you’re always welcome.”

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Evelyn said. She paused then leaned up and kissed Cullen on the cheek. “Thank you for your input today.”

Cullen gave her a nod and looked up to see Dorian staring at him with a neutral expression. He wondered what was going on behind that mask then the man’s face cleared and he smiled.

“The Council meeting went well then?”

Cullen nodded and opened the door to his rooms, gesturing for Dorian to enter. “Relatively speaking. I didn’t feel too out of place at any rate.”

“No reason why you should,” Dorian said firmly. “You’re a prince.”

“That doesn’t always mean much,” Cullen replied. He dropped into a chair with a sigh. “And I’ve never really attended that sort of thing as a prince. A soldier, yes, but not a prince.”

“It sounds like it wasn’t too different,” Dorian observed, sitting down opposite Cullen.

Cullen shrugged. “I suppose. How did you like the library?”

Dorian beamed. “It was delightful. I may come back just to lurk in the library.”

“Oh, I see where I stand now,” Cullen said with a grin. “Second to a bunch of books.”

“Oh no,” Dorian replied. “You definitely come before the books. I was going to drag you along with me.”

“I haven’t really looked through the library,” Cullen said thoughtfully. “Well, I have part of it. The history books and so on. There was enough there to keep me occupied. How extensive is it?”

“Very,” Dorian replied. “They have a better collection than the library at the Minrathous Circle and that’s saying something. The library at the Circle is ancient. There are books there dating back hundreds of years but in terms of breadth of knowledge? This one is better.”

“I’ll have to look through it a bit better than I have,” Cullen said.

“I would suggest tomorrow but I was thinking we could walk around the city a bit more,” Dorian said.

Cullen paused and raised an eyebrow. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea. How well do you know the city?”

“Fairly well,” Dorian replied. “Why?”

“Do you know anyone who might know what’s happening with any mage underground here?”

Dorian tapped his bottom lip thoughtfully. “I do actually. He’s a bit odd but if anyone knows what’s going on with the mages, he would. And if he doesn’t, he might well be willing to find out.”

“I’d like to speak to him,” Cullen said. “Some worrying things came up in the meeting.”

“About magic?”

Cullen nodded. “Yes. Or sort of. About lyrium.”

“Hmm,” Dorian said. “If you’re willing to tell me, I could ask around the other courtesans. We hear all sorts of things in the course of our duties.”

“Would they be willing to tell you if it’s breaking the confidentiality of their clients?” Cullen asked, feeling a little uncertain.

“That depends on what the matter is,” Dorian replied. “Confidentiality is important but none of us are willing to put confidentiality over loyalty to Crown and country.”

“Red lyrium,” Cullen said decisively. 

Dorian frowned. “Never heard of it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Cullen replied. “The Order is trying to keep it firmly under control. It reared its ugly head in Kirkwall a few years ago. Use of red lyrium drove the Knight-Commander mad and caused a blood bath in the Gallows.”

“You think it’s here?” Dorian asked, looking worried.

“I don’t know,” Cullen said. “But there are some suspicions. I’d like to know a bit more before it gets bad.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Dorian said. “Alright. We’ll go and see Solas tomorrow. I warn you though. He’s strange and his assistant is even stranger.”

“I’ll cope,” Cullen said dryly.

The conversation shifted then to more mundane matters and they whiled away the time until the evening meal whereupon Cullen invited Dorian to join them. Dorian accepted with a pleased smile, glad that he didn’t have to push to be allowed to spend more time with the prince. As they went down to dinner, they were both quite pleased and Cullen’s improved mood was definitely noted the court. Neither man saw the scowl that briefly appeared on an older noble’s face as they all sat down to eat.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian introduces Cullen to his mysterious mage acquaintance and an investigation into red lyrium is instigated.

The next day, Dorian lead Cullen into a different part of the city. This section was mostly residential but there were small shops dotted here and there. The shops were mostly speciality shops, often for magic but there were others among them. Solas’ shop was at the end of a small tunnel and lit by two braziers whose flame was a strange blue-green.

“Veil fire,” Dorian said, gesturing to the braziers. “Solas can’t just have ordinary fire. He has to have the strange magical fire.”

Cullen smiled a little as he followed the mage into the shop. It was as small inside as its position promised and the shelves inside were packed with a variety of potion ingredients and strange magical implements. Cullen shivered as he looked around. He had a Templar’s wariness of magic. It sometimes caused problems but Templars had been trained to deal with magical problems, not mages in general, so Cullen didn’t often care.

“Dorian,” said a soft voice. “It has been some time.”

Cullen turned around to see a bald elf emerging from a door at the back of the shop. Behind the elf was a young man whose blond hair was falling around his face underneath a somewhat ludicrously large hat.

“I’ve been busy,” Dorian said idly. He wandered over to join the elf and gestured for Cullen to join him. “This is Prince Cullen.”

“Just Cullen will be fine,” Cullen said hurriedly.

“Cullen then,” Solas said with a smile.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” Dorian asked. He looked over at Cullen. “I’m presuming this is something you’d rather not have widely known?”

“That might be for the best,” Cullen said.

Solas eyed them curiously then inclined his head. “Cole,” he said to the young man. “Will you please mind the store?”

Cole nodded and wandered over to the small counter at one side and Solas lead them back through the door. The back room turned out to be a combination of a store room and a sitting room and Solas settled them into seats and offered them something to drink, which turned out to a choice of juice or water. They both chose water and the elf then sat down and waited patiently.

“How can I help?”

Dorian looked over Cullen, encouraging him to take the lead. The prince swallowed and licked his lips.

“How much do you know about the lyrium trade here in Skyhold?” Cullen asked.

Solas smiled slightly. “A bit. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Red lyrium,” Cullen said bluntly.

Solas arched an eyebrow. “Red lyrium? I confess I haven’t heard of any such thing.”

“It first appeared in Kirkwall a few years ago but the Templars have been pretty fierce in trying to keep it under control.” Cullen grimaced. “Some might say too fierce but I’ve seen what it can do so I’m not sure about that.”

“What can it do?” Solas asked.

“It drove Knight-Commander Meredith mad and turned her into a statue of red lyrium.”

Solas looked alarmed. “That is… extreme. I agree that you are right to be concerned about it. I take it you believe it may be here.”

Cullen grimaced. “Let’s just say I have some suspicions.”

“I haven’t heard anything about a new form of lyrium,” Solas said. “But I can certainly make some enquiries.”

“Be careful,” Cullen said hurriedly. “If someone thinks they can use this when the Order has been so strict in controlling it, they may not welcome anyone intruding.”

“I shall be careful,” Solas said. “Now tell me what forms this red lyrium takes.”

“I honestly don’t know,” Cullen replied. “I was called home by my father as soon as he found out about what had happened in Kirkwall. He was furious the Order had put me at risk in that way.” The expression on his face told Solas and Dorian what Cullen had thought of that. “But I’ve sent a letter to Knight-Commander Gregoir in Ferelden asking for the reports. I know he received them because he confirmed a few things with me at the time.”

“Will he send them to you?” Solas asked.

“He should,” Cullen replied. “If someone here is bringing in red lyrium then it needs to be stopped. The Templars don’t have a presence here and I pointed out to Gregoir that sharing information might be the only way the Templars could possibly be invited in.”

“Would we need the Templars?” Dorian asked, frowning.

Cullen shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends who is using it. If it’s mages, then you might. Templars can nullify a lot of magic.”

“And if it’s others?” Dorian said.

“Best to keep them away,” Cullen replied. “The Kirkwall Templars were using lyrium more frequently than we did in normal times in Ferelden. It was… troubling. I know there were a lot of blood mages and rebel mages but…” He grimaced. “It was still troubling.”

“I had heard that Templars consume lyrium,” Solas said thoughtfully. “A dangerous pursuit.”

Cullen and Dorian exchanged glances and Cullen sighed. “It is that.”

Solas gave him a narrow-eyed look. “Lyrium is addictive.”

Cullen smiled mirthlessly. “It is. But Darkspawn emissaries are powerful and there were many of them during the Blight. Perhaps we were foolish to do it but we had no way of knowing if we were going to survive and people needed our protection.”

“You still take it?” Solas asked, looking concerned.

Cullen shook his head. “No. The withdrawal was bad enough even after such a short time of misusing it that I used it only if there was no other choice. I’m strong enough without it most times.”

Dorian’s eyes lit up and even Solas looked intrigued.

“Would you be willing to demonstrate these abilities?” Dorian asked.

“Uh, if you’d like,” Cullen said slowly. “You don’t mean… on you?”

“Why not?” Dorian said, leaning forward a little, his eyes alight with interest.

“Dorian,” Cullen said with alarm. “Even if I pull a lot of the power out of them, it’ll still be unpleasant. They’re not meant to be used on mages in general. We’ve mostly only ever used them on blood mages or abominations.” He paused. “Well, there’s more than a few mages in Fereldan who don’t mind having a Templar around when they’re experimenting because the Purge is excellent at stopping spells that have gone wrong but that’s about the only exception.”

“And nobody misuses these abilities?” Solas asked, looking cynical.

“I didn’t say that.” Cullen sighed wearily. “The Order polices their own. Mostly they succeed but, yes, sometimes they fail.”

Solas held up one hand. “Your pardon, Cullen. I was not casting aspersions. Corruption is inevitable for any moderately large organisation. Many choose not to acknowledge that.”

“Meredith was something of a wakeup call for the Order as a whole,” Cullen said, giving a nod to indicate his acceptance of Solas’ apology. “She managed to operate for a long time without anybody noticing her madness or that she was no longer taking ordinary lyrium. The Order did a sweep through the ranks after the mess in the Gallows.”

“Such a cheery name,” Dorian said dryly.

“It’s an old Tevinter outpost so we can’t take any credit for it,” Cullen said, the smirk that Dorian was beginning to truly appreciate coming to the fore again.

“Are you… sassing me, Prince Cullen?” Dorian said with amusement. “I didn’t know you had it in you.”

Cullen shot Dorian a dry look and turned back to Solas. “If you hear anything about red lyrium, you can contact me through Dorian. I think that’ll be the easiest.”

Solas smiled thinly. “I do try and avoid the Stronghold. As lenient and welcoming as Queen Evelyn is, I have had bad experiences with authority in the past.” He waved a hand. “But be that as it may, I confess that I too am curious to see these abilities of yours. They sound almost magical.”

“They’re not, I can assure you of that,” Cullen said. “I don’t have a magical bone in my body. Nor do any of the Templars I know.” He gave a crooked smile. “If we did, we’d be mages.”

“No Templars are mages then?” Solas asked.

Cullen shook his head. “No. Why?”

“I find it curious,” Solas said. “Who better to detect and combat mages than mages?”

“That’s what the Imperium believes,” Dorian said. “Our Templars are little more than prettily armoured warriors.”

“Prettily armoured?” Cullen said dubiously.

“It’s very shiny and a rather pretty shade of mauve,” Dorian said, his eyes alight with mischief. “They layer a material that is a very becoming shade of gold over it.”

Cullen gave him a long look. “I can’t decide if you’re serious or not.”

“You’ll just have to wonder, won’t you?” Dorian said with a laugh.

Cullen shook his head but he was smiling a little. “Anyway, pretty armour notwithstanding, Templars in Fereldan are very good at stopping mages in their tracks.”

“Are you more resilient to demons?” Solas asked.

Cullen shuddered and licked his lips. He didn’t like to think of the latter days of the Blight, when they’d been strung out on lyrium and the emissaries had sensed their weaknesses. They’d sent waves of demons out then and not just in the physical world. Peaceful sleep had become a rare commodity in those days as demons haunted them in the Fade as well. But despite that, despite the almost constant harassment by demons, not a single one of them had succumbed to possession. No one had been sure if it was being a Templar that protected them or the fact that they were so focused on the Blight and thus less inclined to give into whatever demon had come to them.

“No one has ever determined that for a fact,” he said, not seeing the concerned looks he was getting from Dorian and Solas. “But it’s strongly suspected.”

“Fascinating,” Solas said blandly.

“If you really want to see them, then I am willing,” Cullen said. “But…”

“Are you able to pull your power sufficiently?” Dorian asked.

“Yes, of course,” Cullen said. “But even at the lower levels it won’t be pleasant.”

“I’m afraid my curiosity is overcoming any common sense I might have,” Dorian said with a grin. “I’ll tell you what. I give you full permission to say I told you so at the end of it.”

Cullen relaxed and laughed. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that.”

“Perhaps I shall let Dorian take the brunt of it and see how it goes before I take my turn,” Solas said with a sly humour that surprised Cullen. He hadn’t thought the elf had much of a sense of a humour until now.

Dorian pretended to look offended for a moment. “Now, where would be the best place to do this?”

“Somewhere I’m not going to collect any mages by accident,” Cullen said dryly. “I’m sure they won’t appreciate it.”

“Hmm, I’ll speak to Varric,” Dorian said. “If anyone knows a good place to do this, he will. As soon as he has something, I’ll let both of you know.”

After they all agreed that sounded sensible, the conversation veered into other subjects until Dorian and Cullen took their leave. As they wandered through the city, Cullen eyed the courtesan curiously.

“How do you know all these people?”

Dorian laughed. “I’m a courtesan, my dear Cullen. That doesn’t just involve sex, I’ll have you know. In fact, I would say sex has been involved in barely half of my jobs. I’m a Tevinter mage and I’m very handsome. A great deal of the time I’ve been hired for conversation and companionship only and in the course of that, I’ve been taken around any number of fascinating places in the city. The truly interesting ones I remember and come back to in my own time.”

“Ah,” Cullen said, blushing a little. The more time he spent with Dorian, the easier it was to forget what he was.

“You are aware that sex is an option for us,” Dorian said.

“Uh… yes,” Cullen said, blushing a brilliant crimson and nearly choking on his own spit.

Dorian took pity on him. “Shall we go to the Hanged Man? I’ve heard Varric’s friend Hawke is back in town. That should cause a bit of chaos, especially if Fenris isn’t in the mood to rein him in.”

Cullen blinked and nodded and tried to regain his composure. Dorian smiled and linked arms with him, steering him through the streets of Skyhold to the tavern.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Corypheus and one of his agents, a old familiar face for Cullen.

“Someone has been making enquiries about red lyrium, Your Grace.”

Duke Corypheus looked up from the papers he was reading and stared at the agent who had disturbed him. He waited until the man twitched and shifted nervously then gestured for him to come forward.

“Elaborate.”

“The Spymaster’s agents have been making enquiries about a new form of lyrium,” the agent said. “As have those of the Seneschal. There is also someone in the city asking as well.”

Corypheus snarled and got to his feet. He began pacing back and forth. This was unexpected. He had anticipated being able to make a few moves before anyone got wind of his newest acquisition.

“How has this happened?” he snarled.

“We have traced the source of these enquiries back to the Prince Consort,” the agent continued.

Corypheus gave a snarl that hung in the air in the room and caused the agent to cower a little. Corypheus had tried to manoeuvre the queen into marrying a man under his control but she had steadfastly refused any suggestions. And to then settle on an alliance marriage with Ferelden? That insignificant blip on the landscape! It was infuriating.

“How does he know?”

The agent pulled out a sheaf of papers and flipped through them. “We began our enquiries into the Prince Consort when the Queen first announced the marriage,” he said. “The prince was a Templar in Ferelden dating back to just before the Blight. A few years ago, he was among a group of Templars who were sent to Kirkwall in an effort to stabilise the Order in that city. He was reportedly among those who fought in the battle against Knight-Commander Meredith in the Gallows.”

Corypheus whirled around and glared at the agent. “Why did we not know this before the wedding?”

The agent gulped. “It has been difficult to get information out of Ferelden, Your Grace. They are very distrustful of strangers, especially strangers asking after their prince.”

Corypheus snarled and dismissed that information with a wave of one hand. “Put that on my desk and fetch Samson for me.”

The agent bowed and did what he was told. About ten minutes after he left, the door opened and a man walked in. The man was middle-aged or at least he looked it. There was some suggestion he might be younger than he seemed. He had a shock of grizzled hair on his head and his face seemed fixed in as scornful sneer.

“Your Grace,” he said with a perfunctory bow.

Corpheus did not bother to turn around and continued staring out the window. “Do you know the Prince Consort?”

He could see Samson’s reflection in the window and saw when the man gave a start and a pained expression crossed his face. He smiled thinly then hid the expression before Samson could see it. How convenient that his pet Templar knew the Prince Consort and quite well based on that expression. That opened up a world of possibilities.

“Yeah, I knew the kid,” he said heavily.

“How?”

“We were Templars together before the Order kicked me out,” Samson said bitterly. “Then I ran into him again in Kirkwall years later.”

“What was your impression of him?”

As Corypheus watched, that pained expression crossed Samson’s face again. The man licked his lips then his shoulders slumped.

“He was a good kid,” he said. “Bit innocent and naive but a hell of a fighter.”

Corypheus turned around and gave Samson a long sharp look. “There is more, isn’t there?”

Samson stiffened and his shoulders went back and chin came up to a defiant angle. “Nothing important.”

Menace suddenly oozed from Corypheus. “I will be the judge of that, Samson. May I remind you that I am the one supplying you with your lyrium?”

Samson remained defiant for a moment longer then he slumped. “I bedded the kid a few times.”

“I see,” Corypheus said, his eyes gleaming as ideas raced in his mind. “And was the young man as cavalier about it as you apparently are?”

Samson’s face convulsed into an ugly expression for a moment then he calmed. “No idea. Probably though. He was young and a prince. He could have anyone he wanted. I was no one special to him.” Bitterness flooded across his face and infused his voice. “The kid abandoned me quick enough when the Order kicked me out.”

“How would he greet you if he saw you again?” Corypheus asked, his voice silky with self-satisfaction.

Samson shrugged. “No idea. Probably not well.”

Corypheus hummed thoughtfully. “Prince Cullen travels around the city on a regular basis with a local courtesan.” He ignored the way Samson’s eyes widened at that news. “However he frequents the Hanged Man. I would like you to… allow him to see you. You need not approach him. Let us see what he does.”

Samson looked decidedly unenthusiastic but he said, “Yes, Your Grace.”

“You will do this within the week,” Corypheus said, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Samson said with a nod. “Will that be all?”

“Yes. Go,” Corypheus said with a dismissive flip of one hand

He didn’t watch as Samson left the room. Instead he walked back to his desk and sat down. He picked up the information his agents had gathered on the Prince Consort and started reading. If the Prince Consort was going to be a thorn in his side then he would have to be dealt with. He felt fairly safe in making such plans. Everyone knew the Queen had no love for her new husband. She would probably welcome the absence of her unwanted husband and maybe he could convince her to marry a more suitable man. One of his men, to be precise.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A reunion occurs, one that is viewed with worry and concern by others. It's aftermath is interesting.
> 
> Also Samson's language is appalling. Just a warning.

Cullen leaned back in his chair and watched with amusement as Dorian and Varric traded tall tales. At least he thought they were tall tales. It was a little hard to tell. Just when he thought they couldn’t possibly be true, there’d be an element of the story that made him think it was all true. Either way, the stories were entertaining and watching Dorian and Varric try and one up each other was even more entertaining. Actually, watching Dorian was entertaining enough even without the stories.

He’d been trying to fight the attraction he felt for the man. Dorian was a courtesan and Cullen knew himself. He already felt more for Dorian than anyone he’d ever been involved in and that was dangerous. Dorian wasn’t going to be in his life forever. Dorian was being paid to spend time with him and part of that payment was gracing Cullen’s bed if they both wanted it. Dorian had certainly made it plain that he would quite welcome such a thing but Cullen was hesitant. He didn’t think he could keep it casual with Dorian. He simply _liked_ the man too much for that and yet his ability to resist Dorian was lowering with every day that passed. Because as much as he tried to deny it, he _wanted_ the man. He wanted to touch him, kiss him, find out what made him moan and gasp and arch up into his touch. But if he took that step, he might never be able to go back.

He sighed and took a long drink of his ale. A flicker of movement over to one side caught his attention and he looked over to see what looked like a familiar face.

“Impossible,” he muttered.

He leaned past the people who were standing around the table listening to the stories and then he sucked in a sharp breath. He hadn’t been wrong. There, tucked in the corner of the pub at a small table, was Samson. He was nursing a tankard and he looked… terrible. Samson was older than him but he’d never worn his years too heavily. At least, not until the Blight and the lyrium overdoses. Samson had been one of the Templars who had struggled to overcome the addiction and when he’d been caught stealing lyrium, he’d been dismissed from the Order. Cullen had tried to find him, to help him however he could but he’d been warned off by the Knight-Commander and his father. He’d hated having to turn his back on Samson but he’d had no choice.

He set his tankard on the table and got up, not noticing the glances he got from Dorian and Varric. He weaved his way through the crowd until he got closer to the corner. It was definitely Samson. He made no attempt to hide his approach and he saw the moment Samson looked up and recognised him. The man’s eyes widened and he swallowed hard. Cullen couldn’t decipher the expression that crossed Samson’s face but he didn’t tell him to piss off so he took that as a somewhat positive sign. Samson had never been one to be tactful with him. If he didn’t want him here, he’d say so.

“Samson?” he said.

“What are you doing here, Cullen?” Samson said wearily.

Cullen sat down gingerly. “I married Queen Evelyn,” he said dryly, taking the question literally rather than answering the question Samson was really asking.

“Gone up in the world then,” Samson grunted, taking a drink of his pint.

“Not by choice,” Cullen said with a grimace. “Alliance marriage. There was no one else. What are you doing here?”

“Passing through,” Samson said. “Looking for work if I can get it.”

“Do you want me to ask around?” Cullen asked. “See if anyone…”

Samson gave a harsh barking laugh. “With the nobles. They wouldn’t touch me, kid, and you know it.”

Cullen swallowed the question about whether Samson was still taking lyrium. It would be pointless. He could work out the answer just by looking at Samson. He’d never last in a legitimate job.

“Varric might know someone,” he said hesitantly.

“Leave it, kid.” Samson took another drink then looked Cullen over. “You look good.”

Cullen blushed. “I… um… thank you.”

Samson laughed coarsely. “Still blushing at the drop of a hat, I see.” He ignored the exasperated look Cullen gave him and leaned forward. “Does that blush still go all the way down your chest? I always liked that.”

Cullen’s blush deepened and he glared Samson. “Sam, stop that.”

Samson leaned back and gave another of those coarse laughs. “Just teasing, kid. We were good together once.”

Cullen lowered his eyes and looked at hands. Samson was right. They had been good together once, good enough that Cullen had even flirted with the idea that they might have some sort of future together. But then had come the Blight and the lyrium and Samson’s fall from grace. 

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, we were.”

He looked up when Samson kicked his foot under the table. The older man was wearing a faded version of the grin that had coaxed Cullen into his bed in the first place and Cullen felt his heart skip. 

“Wanna see if we still are?” Samson said.

For just a brief moment, Cullen was tempted. They had been very good together and the sex had been spectacular. But then he looked at Samson and he knew it wasn’t going to happen. Samson had been a good man once. A good man and a damn good Templar but now he was trouble and Cullen had enough on his plate as it was. A hand suddenly gripped his shoulder just a little too tight and he looked up to see Dorian smiling down at him, though he noticed that the smile didn’t reach his eyes. For a moment, Dorian’s gaze flickered over to Samson then he was concentrating on Cullen.

“Cullen? Varric wants to take us to this little bar he knows,” Dorian said. “Shall we?”

Cullen licked his lips and nodded. “Alright.” He looked over at Samson but the man waved a hand indolently.

“Get on with you, kid. You ain’t my keeper. Never were, never will be.”

Cullen stood then hesitated for a moment. “Sam…”

“Git,” Samson said then he conceded a little. “I might be around this place for a while longer. Depends what happens on the work front.”

Cullen nodded then let Dorian lead him out of the tavern. Varric was waiting for them outside and while he was smiling, there was a calculating look in his eyes that made Cullen think that the invitation to this other bar wasn’t spontaneous.

“Friend of yours?” Dorian asked casually as they headed off along the walkway.

Cullen nodded. “Samson. He was a Templar.”

“Was?” Varric asked.

“He was expelled,” Cullen replied then he drew in a deep breath and shook his head. “It’s alright. I just wasn’t expecting to see him here.”

Dorian looked at him for a moment then took Cullen’s arm. “They say everyone ends up in Skyhold at least once.”

“That must be it,” Cullen replied before falling silent again.

He didn’t say another word until they reached the bar, though Varric and Dorian kept up a constant stream of conversation. The bar was much quieter than the Hanged Man and Cullen relaxed a little, letting Dorian guide him to a booth at the back. Dorian slid in beside him and Varric disappeared in the direction of the bar.

“Alright there?” Dorian asked, giving him a nudge.

Cullen drew in a breath and nodded. “Yeah. I just…” He shook his head and sighed. “He’s still taking lyrium.”

“Are you sure?” Dorian asked.

“Yeah,” Cullen said with a nod. “He’s got the look about him.”

“He made you blush rather nicely,” Dorian observed in a neutral tone.

Cullen blushed again. “He was always good at that,” he said with wry exasperation.

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Former lover?”

Cullen gave a start and looked at Dorian with surprise. “Was I that obvious?”

“Not really,” Dorian replied. He was surprised to feel a surge of jealousy. Cullen clearly wasn’t planning on taking up with the man again, lover or not, and even if he did, Dorian didn’t have any say in it. He was a courtesan hired to be Cullen’s companion, nothing more. For the first time since he’d started working as a courtesan, that thought stung. “But it makes sense with your mood right now.”

Cullen let out a breath and leaned against Dorian for a moment. “I’m sorry.” He shook his head. “Samson always did have the ability to get under my skin and not always in a good way.”

“It wasn’t a good relationship?” Dorian asked.

“No,” Cullen said hurriedly. “We… we were good together but Samson… Samson likes having the upper hand. I usually didn’t mind but he did like to rile me up at times.”

“I’m almost surprised you didn’t stay,” Dorian said.

Cullen frowned at him. “I’d have been surprised if I did,” he said with some aspersion. “He’s still taking lyrium. It’s not…” He shook his head. “I couldn’t be with him now.”

Dorian suddenly remembered that Cullen had had his own troubles with lyrium. “I’m sorry. I’m being an ass and I have no real explanation as to why.”

“You almost sound jealous,” Cullen said with a small laugh.

Dorian was silent and still for a moment then licked his lips and decided to take a chance. “I suppose I am. He’s had you in his bed and I’ve yet to even kiss you.”

Cullen made a strangled sound and blushed a brilliant red. He stared down at the table and Dorian wondered whether he’d buggered things up before they could even get started. He knew he shouldn’t push but Cullen was very attractive and very easy to be around. It made wanting more very hard to resist.

“I… um…” 

Cullen blushed even more and coughed, looking everywhere but at Dorian. He was about to apologise when Cullen suddenly turned to him, leaned in and kissed him. It was a barely there peck, as chaste a kiss as Dorian had received in many a year but he felt his heart thump nonetheless. Because Cullen had initiated it. True, it had been at Dorian’s goading but Cullen was the one had kissed him, not the other way around.

He touched his lips with a wondering expression. “I…”

Before he could say any more, Cullen leaned in again, this time with far more intent. One hand curled around the back of Dorian’s neck and this time when their lips met, it wasn’t quick and it wasn’t chaste. Dorian was quick to get with the program this time, returning the kiss then teasing the other man with little licks and nips. Cullen made a small sound of approval and opened his mouth to Dorian and the kiss took on a new level of intensity, the rest of the world fading into little more than background noise.

When they finally parted, they were both breathless. Dorian’s hands were clutching at Cullen’s shirt and Cullen was still holding him close with the hand behind his neck. He rested his forehead against Dorian’s and licked his lips.

“That was… really nice,” Cullen said softly.

Dorian opened his mouth to reply but for a moment he couldn’t find any words. He chuckled quietly. “Since you’ve done the remarkable and rendered me speechless, I would have to say it was far more than really nice.”

Cullen smiled, his blush still staining his cheeks. “I… yes.”

“Alright, if you two lovebirds are done, try this ale.”

Dorian and Cullen sprang apart and stared at Varric as he plunked three tankards on the table. They’d almost forgotten that the dwarf had accompanied them and from the smirk on his face, Varric was well aware of that and found it hilarious.

“Varric…” Dorian began.

“I thought I was going to have to wait over there all night for you two to get done,” Varric continued, gesturing back towards the bar. “By the way, you have fans now.”

Dorian looked around and saw the three barmaids standing in a huddle and staring at them with stars in their eyes. When they realised he was looking at them, they blushed and giggled and disappeared into the back room. Dorian grinned and turned to look at Cullen, who had buried his face in his hands.

“Come now, Cullen,” Dorian said, laughing and pulling Cullen’s hands away from his face. “We are very pretty together so I cannot fault them for watching.”

“I… but… I’m… the Queen…” Cullen babbled, looking slightly panicked.

“If I’m any judge of the woman, the Queen will probably be put out that she wasn’t here to see it for herself,” Dorian said, drawing a chuckle from Varric. He started rubbing Cullen’s back soothingly. “Cullen, relax. This is undoubtedly what the Queen was hoping for when they arranged for me to accompany you. Neither you nor the Queen had any choice in this marriage and she would hardly want you to deny yourself for the rest of your life.”

Cullen drew in a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. Dorian’s words made sense and more than that he knew they were true. Evelyn had all but told him to do whatever he wished with Dorian. She did, after all, have Blackwall and he’d met the man a few times outside the Queen’s rooms on the mornings in which they sparred together so it wasn’t as if Evelyn was remaining celibate in the marriage. 

Cullen nodded and swallowed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to go into a panic on you.”

Dorian continued rubbing his back. “Think nothing of it, Cullen. I know you’re still not used to our ways.”

“I should write this up into a short story and send it to the Queen, seeing as how she missed seeing it,” Varric said, breaking the tension in the air and largely dispelling it. He was grinning wildly. “Of course, I’ll leave out the panic attack and maybe have a bit less in the way of shirts and a bit more in the way of kissing and swooning. Think she’d like it?”

“Varric!” Cullen said with alarm as Dorian laughed.

“Oh, do it,” Dorian urged. “I want to see the reaction.”

“Dorian,” Cullen protested, grabbing at Dorian’s arm. “No. Varric, you can’t do that.”

“Why not?” Varric said, looking innocent. It was completely spoiled by the amusement and mischief sparking in his eyes. “I’ve been looking for a way to get some royal patronage and some more attention in the court for a while. This could well be it.”

Cullen groaned and buried his face in his hands again. Dorian laughed and ran a hand through Cullen’s blond curls.

“You know he’s going to do it anyway, Amatus,” Dorian said, not seeing the sharp, assessing look Varric suddenly directed at him. “You might as well play along and be proud of it. You are, aren’t you?”

Varric wasn’t the only one who heard the thread of uncertainty and hesitation in Dorian’s voice. Cullen raised his head and cupped Dorian’s cheek with one hand.

“I… I am,” he said softly but intently. “I… liked kissing you. Very much.”

Dorian looked into Cullen’s eyes and gave a tremulous smile that was so unlike his usual broad grins and smirks. It was at once hesitant and utterly genuine and it made Cullen’s breath catch. He leaned forward and kissed Dorian again, a soft, slow kiss that held a wealth of promise in it. They were promises he probably shouldn’t be making but he couldn’t stop himself now, not after seeing that smile on Dorian’s face.

“Aww, you two are adorable,” Varric said with a chuckle.

“Sod off, Varric,” Dorian said before sinking one hand into Cullen’s curls and dragging him close to kiss him again. He could do this all night.

This time when they parted, Dorian shifted closer and smirked smugly when Cullen wrapped an arm around his shoulders without thought or self-consciousness. 

“I’m definitely writing about this,” Varric said, still grinning. He held up one hand before Cullen could protest again. “Nope. Sorry, Curly, it has to be done. I’ll change the names to protect those involved and all. Well, except for the version I send to the Queen. She should have the full story. But do you have any idea how popular romances are?”

“I should throw you into a cell or something,” Cullen said ruefully.

“That wouldn’t stop me,” Varric replied. “I’m very resourceful.”

“He is,” Dorian said. “It’s frightening in a way.”

“You didn’t say that when I was being resourceful for you,” Varric said, saluting them with his tankard.

“That’s because it was benefiting me,” Dorian replied. “I’m selfish that way.”

Varric snorted with amusement. While it was true that Dorian could be selfish at times, he was at heart a generous and giving man. It was why he did so well as a courtesan and why the Courtesan’s Guild’s infamous and rather intimidating Guild mistress allowed him free reign to pick and choose his clients. Madame de Fer knew what side her bread was buttered on and she knew a golden asset when she saw one. There were even rumours doing the rounds that Dorian was one of the few people that Madame Vivienne considered to be a friend. Varric hadn’t believed the rumours at first but after meeting Dorian, he wondered if there was some truth in them. The man could charm a snake.

“Of course you are,” he said dryly, getting a snort from Cullen. He grinned at the prince. It seemed like he had a good bead on Dorian, which was an excellent sign. He had money on these two defying just about anything and he intended to collect.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus plots and schemes with Samson and Calpernia. The latter is more enthusiastic than the former.

Corypheus leaned back in his chair and tapped his long, hideously thin fingers together as he listened to Samson’s lacklustre report. The man was doing his best to be diffident and dismissive of his encounter with the Prince Consort but Corypheus had too much experience with people to miss the obvious fact that Samson clearly still had some feelings for the prince. Enough that he was reluctant about wanting to be too involved in Corypheus’ plans.

Corypheus gave the barest of smirks. “Do you believe you could lure the prince back into your bed?”

It was a cruel question to ask but he found some amusement in the way Samson reacted to it. He already knew the answer he was going to get but he still entertained the idea of corrupting the Prince Consort with a scandal for a moment before letting it go.

“No,” Samson said gruffly. “He’s being guarded and I don’t think he could circumvent them. Or if he would even want to.”

Oh, that had cost Samson to say that out loud. Corypheus could see that. For all that the man was lost to addiction and spiralling down into places where Corypheus could own him, there was still something of the old Samson left. The upright Templar, the kind heart wrapped in a rough exterior, the man who had drawn a young prince into his bed and his heart. It would have been delightful to use Samson to tear down Cullen but it would also be unwise. There was enough of the decent man Samson had been left that he could well turn on him if he pushed too far and too hard in that direction. No, it would be best to use Samson as an unwitting pawn and let others handle the dirty work.

“Would he welcome further contact?” Corypheus asked.

Samson hesitated. “Yeah, maybe. If it was in public anyway.”

“Good,” Corypheus said. He gestured towards the small vial on his desk. “Your reward.”

Samson stepped forward and snatched the vial up. His hand closed around it tightly as he tried but failed to hide his craving for the blue liquid inside the bottle then he bowed and left the room. Corypheus watched the former Templar go with well-hidden glee. Soon Samson would be ready for the red and then he would have his man, body, mind and soul.

A figure emerged from the shadows of the room. The tall slender woman looked at the door with a contemptuous sneer.

“The man is a disgrace.”

“The man is useful, Calpernia,” Corypheus said. “Even more so now.”

“If you say so, my Lord,” Calpernia said with a short bow.

“How does your research progress?” Corypheus said.

“The red lyrium responds well to the process but it is slow to grow on its own.” A cold, cruel smile curved her lips. “However I have discovered a way to make it grow faster.”

“Oh?”

“One of my assistants was careless and ended up with a sliver of the red lyrium embedded in his arm,” Calpernia said. “It is growing marvellously within him. I have confined him to a cell in the basement. It appears to be affecting his mental faculties so I thought it best to not allow him to roam around.”

“And it grows well?” Corpyheus said, leaning forward with interest.

“Exceedingly,” Calpernia replied. “I would like your permission to… obtain further specimens to allow for more experiments. The Carta are being troublesome and I would like to have our own source of red lyrium so that we need not rely on them.”

“Do it,” Corypheus said. 

Being able to side step the Carta would be useful for more than just monetary reasons. Every time the Carta smuggled red lyrium into Haven, they risked being caught. If they could grow their own, they would be far safer from discovery.

Calpernia bowed. “Yes, my Lord. Is there anything further?”

Corypheus tapped his chin. “Yes. Find me five or six men who would be willing to kill a high profile target. Tell them they will be taken care of afterwards. Money, relocation, whatever it takes to get their agreement.”

He sneered and Calpernia smirked in return. She knew what he meant. The men would be disposed of after they had carried out their task. Dead men could not tell tales, after all.

“Of course, my Lord,” she said. “May I ask who the target will be? It may help with my selection.”

“The Prince Consort,” Corypheus replied.

Calpernia did not even bat an eyelid. “How long do I have?”

“I want them ready to act by the end of the month,” Corypheus replied. “Do not tell anyone of this, especially Samson. I do not want old loyalties to interfere with my plans.”

“I could get rid of him too,” Calpernia said with a sneer.

“No,” Corypheus snapped with a sharp gesture of one hand. “You will not touch him. His usefulness is yet to be realised. Until then I want him left alone.”

Calpernia looked for a moment like she was going to argue then she bowed deeply. “As you wish, Your Grace.”

Corypheus watched the woman go and made a mental note to keep a closer eye on her. He had no objection to a certain amount of rivalry between his underlings but he had plans for Samson and he had no intention of letting Calpernia ruin them.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finally makes a move and sex happens. Yep, this chapter earns this fic it's E rating. It's also rated A for angst because unfortunately the aftermath doesn't go well because Dorian has a tendency towards overreaction. Sort of. His overreaction has a fair foundation.

Cullen paced around his sitting room and let himself get lost in his thoughts. Dorian was due soon and for once they’d made no particular plans for the day. It had been nearly three weeks since they’d first kissed and many days and evenings since then had been spent doing more in the way of kissing before they’d progressed to touching and even a little welcome groping. It had all been wonderful but Cullen wanted more. Every time they stopped was a wrench and he had finally reached the point where he didn’t want to stop.

He paced back and forth and rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to figure out how to tell Dorian. He was terrible with words, especially about things like this, and Dorian had been careful to never let things go too far or let Cullen become uncomfortable. But he was done with that. He wanted more. He liked Dorian, probably more than just _liked_ Dorian if he ever let himself truly think about it and he wanted more.

He spun around when the door opened and as soon as he saw Dorian, every word he’d rehearsed flew out of his mind. He waited until Dorian had closed the door then he strode over and pinned the man to the door and kissed him. Dorian made a startled noise then he moaned into the kiss and pulled Cullen tight against him.

“Well,” Dorian said a bit breathlessly when the kiss ended. “That was a pleasant way to be greeted.”

Cullen opened his mouth to say something then, when words failed him yet again, he let his head drop onto Dorian’s shoulder with a groan. Dorian chuckled and ran his hand through Cullen’s hair.

“Cullen?”

Cullen raised his head and licked his lips before blurting out, “I want… I want you.”

Dorian gave him a sultry smile. “You can have me. Have I not proven that recently?”

Cullen shook his head. “No! I mean, yes, you have. But I want…” He blushed and cursed himself briefly before forcing himself to get the words out. “I want to have sex. With you.”

Dorian’s eyes widened and Cullen saw a squall of lust and desire cross his face.

“Well then,” the courtesan said quietly. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Cullen said firmly. “I… it’s all I’ve been able to think about the last few days. Cassandra put me on my back four times this morning because I could hardly concentrate.”

Dorian’s breath caught in his throat then he smirked. “And did you tell her what had you so distracted?”

“Maker, no,” Cullen said. He slid his hands down Dorian’s sides and around to rest on his arse. He pulled Dorian close enough to feel that he was already half-hard just from the kissing.

Dorian rolled his hips against Cullen’s and gave a breathy laugh at the way the man groaned. “Well then, if you’re sure.”

He pushed Cullen away then sauntered towards the bedroom, putting a deliberate sway in his hips. As he walked, he began to take off his clothes, dropping them to the floor as he walked. He paused in the doorway and looked over his shoulder at the prince.

“Coming?” he said with every ounce of desire and mischief he could conjure.

Cullen laughed and followed Dorian into the bedroom. By the time he got there, Dorian was naked and standing at the end of the large comfortable bed with a sultry look on his face.

“You, Cullen, are very overdressed,” Dorian said as he climbed onto the bed and sprawled against the pillows. “Strip.”

Cullen had been rather mesmerised by Dorian’s display of getting on the bed and he gave a start. He swallowed hard then slowly pulled off his shirt then fumbled with the laces of his breeches. He nearly cursed before they finally unravelled in his hands and he was able to toe off his boots and shove his breeches down and off. He hesitated for just a moment before taking off his smalls and the he stood at the end of the bed. He knew he was blushing and that the crimson was spreading down his throat and across his chest. Samson had always made fun of him for it before following the spread of red with lips and fingers.

“Beautiful,” Dorian breathed. “You are utterly breathtaking, Amatus.”

Cullen blinked at the strange word, wondering what it meant, but then Dorian was crawling back down the bed and settling down to sit at the edge. He was then completely distracted when Dorian placed his hands on his hips and pulled him closer into the vee of his spread legs. Cullen drew in a sharp breath when he realised how close that put his erection to Dorian’s face.

Before he could say anything, Dorian looked up at him through his eyelashes and took the head of his cock into his mouth. Cullen gasped at the wet warmth that suddenly surrounding him and had to work hard not to thrust forward to seek more of it.

“Dorian,” he moaned, one hand sliding into the other man’s hair. He was careful not to grab hold or try and control Dorian.

Dorian hummed around his cock, which almost made Cullen’s knees buckle, then he slowly slid down until he took in all of Cullen. 

“Maker. So good,” Cullen gasped, his head falling forward. He was breathing heavily already and he had a sudden thought that he wasn’t going to last long at this rate and that would be distinctly embarrassing.

Dorian seemed to realise this too because he became utterly ruthless, sliding up and down Cullen’s cock and alternating between deep sucks and little licks until Cullen’s control snapped and his hips bucked forward. Dorian made a sound of approval and now his hands on Cullen’s hips encouraged him to continue. Cullen was no longer able to resist and he started thrusting into Dorian’s mouth. He looked down at the man sitting on the edge of the bed and when Dorian gave him another of those sultry look through his eyelashes, he fell over the edge and came. Dorian’s grip tightened on his hips as he swallowed everything then he slowly pulled back and let Cullen’s cock slip from his mouth.

He encouraged Cullen forward onto the bed and got him situated against the pillows. Cullen felt loose and lax and he let Dorian do what he wished. When Dorian finally settled against him, he wrapped one arm around his shoulders and let the other slide down Dorian’s side to his cock. Dorian was so hard, his cock weeping, and he hissed when Cullen wrapped a hand around him and batted his hand away.

“Not yet, Amatus,” he said with a tight grin. “I want to let you recover a little then, if you will let me, I wish to have you.”

Arousal surged through Cullen and he licked his lips and nodded. “I… I’d like that.”

Dorian leaned up and captured his lips into a kiss. Cullen was happy to return it, losing himself in the sensation of not just Dorian’s lips against his but also his body as well. Dorian was warm and as he let his hands wander up and down in light caresses, wonderfully responsive. Before long, Dorian moved and straddled his legs so that he could deepen the kisses and Cullen cupped his face with both hands.

“Oil?” Dorian murmured against his lips.

Cullen hummed and let Dorian go. He leaned over to the bedside table and pulled out a small jar. He handed it to Dorian then when the other man moved, he spread his legs invitingly. Dorian settled onto his knees between Cullen’s legs and set the jar down on the bed. He ran his hands along Cullen’s legs and up his inner thighs, watching as the man’s cock began to twitch and slowly fill as he continued to caress and tease the sensitive skin.

He lowered himself onto the bed and followed the path of his hands with his mouth, kissing and licking his way up Cullen’s inner thighs then leaving a line of marks behind him as he sucked and nipped at the skin. Cullen gasped and cursed breathlessly at him and he shifted impatiently, trying to encourage Dorian to do more.

Finally Dorian fumbled for the jar of oil and slicked up his fingers. He trailed them down the underside of Cullen’s cock, drawing a delicious moan from the man, then he cupped and rolled Cullen’s balls, getting the sac all slick with the oil. He dipped his fingers in the oil again then slid his fingers down until he could press a finger against Cullen’s entrance.

“Dorian,” Cullen moaned. “Please… more.”

Dorian looked up and saw that Cullen was sprawled on the bed. A blush spread from his cheeks, down his throat and across his chest almost down to his stomach but he was not hesitant in the way he arched into Dorian’s touch. It was arousal causing this blush, not embarrassment, and Dorian smiled to see it.

“Dorian,” Cullen said, shifting to try and get more contact.

Dorian nipped at the skin on Cullen’s hip and slowly pushed his finger inside the other man. He rested his cheek against Cullen’s thigh and closed his eyes at the sensation of the tight warmth of Cullen’s body around his finger. He began to slowly thrust in and out with first one finger then two. Only when Cullen’s was hard and leaking and begging for yet more did he add a third.

Cullen reached down and dragged him up into a fierce, filthy kiss and Dorian gasped and removed his fingers. He fumbled with the jar again and slicked his cock before lining himself up at Cullen’s entrance then pushing in. He slid in carefully but relentlessly until he was fully seated with his hips pressed against Cullen’s backside. He paused then to catch his breath and regain some sort of control.

“Andraste’s arse, don’t stop,” Cullen moaned, grabbing at whatever he could reach and trying to encourage Dorian to move.

Dorian chuckled and slipped his arms beneath Cullen’s knees, bending them back to spread Cullen open and using them to brace himself. He steadied himself for a moment then drew back and thrust back in. He set a steady rhythm, shifting slightly until he pushed in again and Cullen cried out in pleased surprise. Dorian smiled and drove in at that angle again and again, striking that spot that made Cullen curse and shout and moan. Between Cullen’s reaction and the feel of his tight heat around his cock, he soon found himself hurtling towards the edge.

“Touch yourself,” he gasped.

Cullen dropped one hand to his cock and started to stroke. He only lasted a short while before he spilled over, splashing white liquid across his stomach and chest. His arse clenched around Dorian’s cock and he swore and plunged into the other man, once, twice then a third time before he came, his hips shuddering as he emptied himself into Cullen.

He stayed where he was, slumped over his lover, until Cullen shifted underneath him. He carefully let go of the prince’s legs and pulled out. Cullen moaned at his absence and Dorian petted his chest as he reached for the man’s shirt. He cleaned them both off and dropped the shirt over the side of the bed and curled up around the other man. Cullen rolled onto his side and pulled him close so that they entwined themselves as much as they could. 

They lay there in silence for a while, recovering and simply enjoying each other’s company. They sought each other’s mouth for gentle kisses and exchanged caresses and touches. Finally Cullen sighed and pressed his forehead against Dorian’s. He smiled as he came to a realisation and knew he had to say something.

“I love you,” he said a little hesitantly then he swallowed and said it again, more firmly. “I love you.”

Dorian stiffened in his arm then began to pull away. Cullen looked at the other man with surprise and confusion.

“Dorian?”

Dorian licked his lips and shook his head and he climbed out of the bed and started looking for his clothes. Panic was growing in him and for once he couldn’t get it under any sort of control. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. Love was never meant to come into this. He’d done this before. He’d let himself love and be loved before only to find that his client was lying in order to keep him for himself. But Dorian’s feelings had been real and true and it had been shattering to think that he had been lied to in such a way.

“Dorian? What’s wrong?”

The plaintive note in Cullen’s voice broke through his growing panic and he looked over to see the other man sitting on the edge of the bed, looking lost and baffled. He almost gave in, almost let himself believe the prince was speaking the truth but he couldn’t. He couldn’t let himself be hurt like that again. It had been hard enough to recover the first time. He knew he couldn’t do it a second time.

“You don’t love me,” he said harshly. “I am a courtesan, Your Highness. You love an illusion of me.”

He did his best to ignore the way Cullen flinched at his words and then slumped where he was sitting. 

“Then… everything you said, everything you did? It was… a lie?” Cullen said, his voice thick and shaking with despair.

Dorian swallowed hard then did what he thought he needed to do.

“Yes,” he said flatly. He quickly dressed and pulled on his boots. “I will speak to Madame de Fer and we will find a replacement.”

“Don’t bother,” Cullen said drearily, the words dropping from his lips like he barely had the strength to speak them. “Just… just leave.”

Dorian forced himself to not look back as he walked out of the bedroom and left Cullen’s rooms. This was for the best for both of them. Cullen didn’t mean what he was saying and Dorian did not love Cullen. He did not. And perhaps if said that to himself enough, he would believe it.

Cullen watched the door close behind Dorian and he buried his head in his hands. He felt heavy, weighed down by despair and there was an almost insurmountable lump in his throat. He dragged himself out of his bed and dug out some clean clothes. He got dressed and shuffled out into the sitting room. Once there, he curled up into the window seat and pressed his head against the glass.

He had gone from sheer and utter joy to complete misery so quickly he could barely understand what had happened. One moment he thought he and Dorian were happy and that he had found someone he could truly genuinely love then… he could barely believe what Dorian had said to him but… the man wasn’t there and as each minute ticked past, it became increasing clear that he wasn’t coming back. 

After an hour had passed with no sign of Dorian returning, he dragged himself back into the bedroom and curled up in his bed. It smelled of Dorian and sex and it was that which finally broke through his shock. He began to silently cry, the tears slipping from his eyes to soak the pillow until he finally, mercifully, fell asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian has good friends who refuse to let him self-destruct. Pity they couldn't get to him before he exploded his and Cullen's relationship. Still, they are not deterred.

Dorian slipped in through the side door of the Guildhouse and hurried up the servants’ stairs. He didn’t want anyone to see him and question why he was here and why he looked so distressed. He was relieved when he made it to his apartment without running into anyone else and once inside, he locked the door and sank down into his favourite armchair.

Why had Cullen had to ruin everything? Why did he have to bring feelings into this? Why couldn’t they have gone on the way they were and thrown in a little sex for some extra fun? Why did Cullen have to say he loved him and make Dorian face his own feelings?

He groaned and stood up, heading into the bathing room to wash and change his clothes. When he returned he found a bottle of wine and a glass and began to drink. He wanted to get very, very drunk then tomorrow when he felt a little less fragile, he would go and speak to Vivienne. He knew she would understand. She had been the one to pick up the pieces after the last time, belying her formidable nickname and reputation.

He had finished the first bottle and was working on his second when there came a knock at the door. He considered ignoring it. No one was supposed to know he was here. It was expected that he would spend more time at the Stronghold after all. Perhaps if he was quiet, whoever it was would go away.

“I know you’re in there, Dorian,” came the voice of the Guild’s Guard Captain, a Qunari who went by the colourful name of The Iron Bull. “Krem saw you come in.”

Dorian groaned and took a big swallow of his wine. He liked Krem but he was a sneaky bastard who couldn’t keep a secret from Bull to save his life.

“Come in,” he called, knowing that if he didn’t, Bull would just stand out there being annoying and attracting attention.

The door opened and the huge Qunari edged into the room. He took one look at Dorian and stuck his head out the door again.

“Tell Madame Vivienne I’m going to be busy,” he said to whoever was out there. “I’ll speak with her tomorrow.”

Bull closed the door and came over and sat down in the armchair across from the one Dorian was sprawled in. He took in the empty bottle and the half full one and the way Dorian was slouching and sulking.

“Huh,” Bull said, picking up the bottle and draining most of what was left. “What did the prince do?”

Dorian glared at Bull for drinking his wine. “Who says he did anything?”

“You’re here and you’re sulking and getting drunk,” Bull replied. “So obviously he did something. Spill.”

Dorian pouted and finished what was in his glass. He put his hand out and gestured towards the bottle in Bull’s hand.

“Gimme.”

“Nope,” Bull said. “Not until you tell me what’s going on.”

Dorian sulked for a little longer then he reluctantly admitted, “He told me he loved me.”

Bull’s eye widened for a moment then he handed over the bottle. “Right.”

“I think he meant it,” Dorian continued.

“And how do you feel?”

Dorian drank straight from the bottle. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Uhuh.” Bull looked at him for a long moment then he stood up. “I’m getting Madame Vivienne.”

Dorian didn’t bother to object. It was pointless. Bull was relentless when he made his mind about something and he was too damn big to try and stop physically. So he settled on cradling the bottle of wine and drinking from it occasionally until the door opened again and the imperious figure of the Guild mistress walked in. She looked at Dorian for a long, long moment then she sighed and revealed the bottle of wine she’d brought. She found a second glass and sat down, opening the bottle she’d bought and pouring herself a glass.

“He told you he loved you,” she said.

Dorian nodded. “I think he meant it.”

“I see” Vivienne said. She let the silence settle for a while before continuing, “Dorian darling, what did you say to him?”

Dorian drained the rest of the bottle and let it drop to the floor beside the chair. He felt that if he moved, his head might roll off his shoulders so he was better off staying very still.

“I told him he was wrong, that he loved an illusion of me. I told him I’d lied to him about everything.”

Vivienne sighed. “My dearest, you love him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know,” Dorian huffed. “It’s been barely a month. How can I know? Especially after last time.”

“Darling,” Vivienne said patiently.

Dorian was quiet for a time then he said in a small voice. “Maybe?”

Vivienne sighed and took a sip of her wine. She watched as the man sitting opposite of her sunk further down into his chair until he fell asleep then she took the opportunity to consider the matter. No doubt Dorian had hurt the young Prince dreadfully with his reaction, even more so because Cullen wouldn’t know what had prompted the sudden about face on Dorian’s part. There was nothing for it. She would have to go to the Stronghold tomorrow and speak to the Queen. Quite apart from the fact that there was the matter of the contract to deal with, she was not going to let Dorian destroy either himself or the Prince Consort.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madame Vivienne is taking steps. She's rather pleased to find firm allies in the Stronghold. This _will_ be fixed.

It was quite early the next morning when Madame Vivienne, Guildmistress of the Courtesan’s Guild walked into the Stronghold and asked for an audience with the Queen and her Seneschal. She waited patiently as messengers scurried back and forth and it wasn’t long before she was ushered into Lady Montilyet’s office where the Queen was pacing back and forth and looking worried. The Seneschal was sitting very serenely at her desk but Vivienne could see the concern on her face as well. She had no doubt she was being _allowed_ to see these things. The Seneschal and the Queen were more than capable of playing the Game and hiding what they felt. She took it as a considerable courtesy that they were willing to drop any facades with her.

She sat down in the chair that was indicated and clasped her hands in her lap. “We seem to have a small problem,” she said calmly.

“A _small_ problem?” the Queen yelped. “Cullen is refusing to get out of bed, is refusing to say _why_ he won’t get out of bed, wouldn’t say _anything at all_ when Josie quite accurately figured out it had something to do with Dorian, and has missed two meals thus far.” She frowned. “I’ll let him skip lunch today but if he skips dinner again, I’ll get Cassandra to bloody well force feed him.”

“What Her Majesty means to say is that we understand there is a problem but we do not understand what it is,” Josephine said with admirable aplomb. “Cullen and Dorian seemed to be getting along extremely well until yesterday. We had even observed they were becoming… intimate to a certain extent.”

“I believe they became completely intimate yesterday and that is where the problem began,” Vivienne said delicately. “I am given to understand that Prince Cullen told Dorian that he loved him.”

Both Evelyn and Josephine stared at her for a moment. “How is that a problem?” Evelyn said. “That’s… good, isn’t it? I was hoping for something like that. It wouldn’t be the first time a courtesan and a client have fallen in love that’s why there are permanent contracts and retirement for courtesans.”

“I confess that after finding out what kind of man the Prince Consort is, I was hoping for it as well,” Vivienne admitted. “However I fear I failed to take into account the depths of Dorian’s insecurities.” She paused for a moment. “I must ask for your discretion in this. It is somewhat out of order for me to be discussing a courtesan in this way but I feel it is the only way we may solve this problem.”

“Of course,” Evelyn said, finally taking a seat. Vivienne was pleased to see that her concern now seemed to encompass both Cullen and Dorian. “It won’t go outside this room.”

“I believe that Dorian… well, if he does not already love Cullen, he is well on the way to doing so,” Vivienne said. “However this is not the first time he has fallen in love with a client. Last time he did, it did not end well. The client had professed his love but he was lying. He wished to possess Dorian and when the truth came out, as it inevitably does, Dorian was devastated. For all that he puts on a good show of being brash and confident, his self-esteem is not as high as it may seem. Tevinter is… regrettably backward when it comes to two people of the same sex loving each other.” She sighed. “Perhaps it is better to say that Tevinter is less than accepting of anything beyond the… traditional.”

Vivienne waved one hand. “Be that as it may, Dorian is more fragile than he seems. So, when Cullen expressed his love, instead of dealing with it in a mature way, Dorian…”

“Crash and burned and took Cullen with him?” Evelyn said dryly.

“So it would seem,” Vivienne said.

“Oh dear,” Josephine said. “That would certainly explain Cullen’s despondency.”

Evelyn sighed. “So… can this be fixed?”

“I believe it can,” Vivienne said with a small smile. “Dorian is suffering as much as it seems Prince Cullen is and I will admit that he is something of a favourite of mine.” She paused for effect. “Though I shall deny it utterly should you tell anyone that.”

Evelyn grinned. “Perish the thought. What can we do? I may not love Cullen but I do like him and I hate seeing him so miserable.”

“I fear he might have to persevere for the moment,” Vivienne said. “It is Dorian that must be worked on. I have little doubt that Prince Cullen was entirely sincere in his expression of love. He does not seem the sort to lie about that.”

Evelyn laughed. “No, he’s not. He was very up front with me, which I honestly appreciated. If he actually told Dorian he loved him, he meant it.”

“Good,” Vivienne said. “Then we must convince Dorian that Cullen was sincere and that he is safe in expressing his own feelings.”

“You look like you have a plan,” Josephine said with a smile.

“I do,” Vivienne said. “And I shall need your help.”

The three ladies leaned forward as Vivienne began to lay out her plan. Soon there were messengers being sent flying around not only the Stronghold but also the city and Cassandra had been recruited to help as well. Vivienne had been surprised when the gruff Champion was summoned but when it was explained that Cassandra was a closet romantic, she was enthusiastically recruited by all.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his misery, Cullen makes a very bad decision, one that has very serious ramifications.
> 
> Also, please don't hate Samson too much at the end of this one. His situation is... complicated and a little out of his control.

Cullen only had about a day’s worth of morose self-pity in him. Though whether that was something normal or more to do with Cassandra rousting him out of bed, glaring at him until he got dressed and all but frog marching him down to the dining hall was a matter of debate. Either way, once he’d been rousted out of bed, he forced himself to try and keep going in a relatively normal manner. It helped that neither Cassandra nor Blackwall mentioned the sudden lack of Dorian in his life. While part of him felt a bit hurt they were ignoring that, most of him was quite happy to not have to talk about it. It would have been difficult with Cassandra and impossible with Blackwall.

However, after his morning sparring sessions and on the days when there weren’t any Council meetings, he found himself at a bit of a loss as to what to do. For the past month or so, he’d spent most of that time with Dorian and often out in the city. He did consider going to the Hanged Man but in the end decided not to, partly because he didn’t want to run into Dorian and partly because he wasn’t sure he’d be welcome. Varric was Dorian’s friend, not his. So mostly he stayed in his room, occasionally venturing out to the library to find a new book or two, but then returning unless he was training or eating.

A week and a half passed like this and then one afternoon there was a knock at his door. He very firmly squashed down the stupid hope that kindled in his chest and went and answered it. He was glad he had squashed that hope because it wasn’t Dorian, just a messenger.

“Message for you, Your Highness.”

He took the note and thanked the messenger then he closed the door and read it.

_Curly,_

_Got a friend of yours here that wants to meet. The surly bloke who knows you from Ferelden. He didn’t know how to get hold of you. He says he’ll be here later this afternoon and he’d like to talk._

_Varric._

Cullen read the note a couple of times then tossed it on the table. It was very tempting to ignore it. Samson knew him too well and he’d picked up on Cullen’s mood in an instant. Then again, it might be nice to spend some time with someone who had known him for years and had no expectations of him. In the end, he went, leaving mid-afternoon in order to make it in time. He rather absently strapped on his sword before he left but he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. He was fairly sure he’d only been allowed to wander the city so freely because Dorian had been with him.

He sighed as he walked through one of the many tunnels in the city. Dorian. He kept thinking about him, where they been and what they’d been doing. It hurt every time he did but he couldn’t seem to stop himself. Despite what Dorian said, he couldn’t stop the way he felt and he had himself half convinced that Dorian had been lying. That he hadn’t meant what he said. He was probably fooling himself but he needed to think that or he was going to end up curled up in bed at all hours again and Cassandra would beat him over the head with her sword.

He pushed open the door to the Hanged Man and was relieved to find it was mostly empty. There was no sign of Varric but Samson was sitting hunched over in a booth at the back with a tankard in front of him and a second one waiting for Cullen. He made his way over and slid into the booth opposite Samson.

“Thanks,” he said, picking up the tankard and saluting Samson.

“You look like shit, kid,” Samson said in reply and Cullen snorted.

“Haven’t been sleeping well,” was all he would say.

“Where’s your pretty guard dog?” Samson asked, looking around curiously.

Cullen flinched. He knew Samson couldn’t have missed it but the man didn’t mention it much to his relief.

“He’s… not here.”

Samson snorted. “Yeah, I can see that, kid.”

“Can we just drop it,” Cullen snapped.

Samson put his tankard down and held up both hands in a placating gesture. “Alright, kid, don’t bite my head off.”

Cullen waved a hand in apology and they slowly settled into a close approximation of the way things had once been between them. Stories were exchanged of old friends and enemies and Cullen went from weak smiles to chuckles to actual laughter as Samson plied him with ale and stories. He felt himself slowly unwinding from what had been one of the worst weeks of his life and while he never forgot how far Samson had fallen, he still felt grateful to the man for shaking him out of his funk. Then Samson did something that surprised him. He returned from the bar with two more tankards of ale and instead of taking his seat opposite Cullen, he stood beside him.

“Budge up.”

Cullen blinked up at him then shifted over and made room. He was immediately unsettled in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. Samson was warm against his side and underneath the sharp scent of lyrium and slightly unwashed male was the familiar scent he’d become used to so many years ago. With his heart still aching from Dorian’s rejection, he soon found himself leaning into Samson and sighing when the man wrapped his arm around his shoulder.

“What happened, kid?” Samson rumbled into his ear.

Cullen shook his head. “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Need me to smash in someone’s head?”

Cullen gave a sharp unhappy laugh. “No. Just… leave it, Sam.”

“Don’t like seeing you upset, kid,” Samson said. “I know that’s a bit of a laugh coming from me given what I did but it’s true.”

Cullen smiled weakly. “I’ll be alright.”

“Yeah, you always are,” Samson said heavily.

Cullen felt eyes on him and looked around to see Varric watching him with a neutral expression on his face. He looked away hurriedly and tried not to think about it. Varric was _Dorian’s_ friend, not his. It only made sense that he’d take Dorian’s side in this. But the bland look made him feel uncomfortable.

“Can we get out of here?” he asked.

Samson looked surprised then he nodded. “Sure, kid. Where do you want to go?”

“Don’t know,” Cullen said with a shake of his head. “Don’t care. Just… not here and not the Stronghold.”

“I know a place,” Samson said, sliding out of the booth.

Cullen followed him and staggered for a moment as his head swam. He’d drunk more than he’d thought but he didn’t much care. The more he drank, the less everything hurt and he welcomed that right now. Samson wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him out of the tavern. They made their way along the walkway and into the tunnel and Samson began telling him another funny story. Soon Cullen had lost track of where they were except that it was certainly a poorer area of the city. He was leaning against Samson, snorting with laughter, and he quickly sent them careening into a wall.

“I forgot what a lightweight you were, kid,” Samson said with amusement. 

He was pinning Cullen against the wall, ostensibly to hold him upright, but there was a glint in his eyes that Cullen decided he liked. He grabbed hold of Samson’s hips and pulled him close, getting a surprised exclamation from the older man then a low moan as Cullen ground their hips together.

“You don’t want to do this, kid,” Samson groaned, pressing his forehead against Cullen’s temple.

“Yeah, I do,” Cullen replied, tilting his head so that he could capture Samson’s mouth with his own.

Samson cursed into the kiss and went still for a moment. Then he burst into motion, shoving Cullen hard against the wall and pinning him there. He all but devoured Cullen’s mouth in a ferocious, biting kiss. He wormed one hand between them and shoved it down the front of Cullen’s breeches until he could take hold of his dick. Cullen moaned into Samson’s mouth and bucked into his hand, seeking more contact.

“Fuck,” Samson muttered, kissing and sucking and biting his way down Cullen’s neck, leaving red marks in his wake. “Forgot how fucking responsive you were.” He began jacking Cullen off quickly. “Yeah, come on, Cull. That’s it. Fuck into my hand. Want to see you come.”

Cullen let his head fall back against the wall, baring his throat to Samson and allowing him to continue leaving marks. He thrust into Samson’s warm hand, the friction almost too much until Samson collected the pre-come that had been leaking and used it as lubrication. With that extra stimulation and Samson’s filthy encouragements, it wasn’t long before Cullen cried out and came. He slumped back against the wall and watched with lidded eyes as Samson extracted his hand from his breeches and licked it clean.

Samson then grabbed Cullen’s hand and placed it against his erection. “Come on, Cull. You got me all excited past the lyrium. Time to make good on it.”

Cullen nodded and dropped to his knees right where he was. He fumbled at the laces on Samson’s breeches then got them undone enough to pull out his hard cock. He didn’t hesitate and sucked Samson’s cock into his mouth. It took only a few minutes to remember what Samson had liked and he set to work. Samson slid a hand into his curls and gently guided his movement as he braced himself against the wall with his other hand. He began to slowly rock backward and forward and Cullen stilled and let him use his mouth.

“Fuck, yeah, Cull,” Samson murmured. “Fuck. Forgot how pretty your mouth is. Look at you. Taking it all. Yeah, that’s it, Cullen.”

He bucked forward sharply and groaned low in his chest as he came, clutching at Cullen’s hair and holding him position. Cullen swallowed what he could and wiped at the rest as it trickled down his chin. He let Samson’s cock slip from his mouth and leaned back against the wall as Samson tucked himself back into his breeches. Samson then offered a hand and helped him get up.

“You’re going to hate both of us tomorrow when you sober up,” Samson said with a harsh bark of a laugh.

Cullen cleared his throat. “Maybe,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Not sure I really care.”

Samson snorted. “I’m the one whose supposed to be fucked up, kid, not you.”

Cullen shrugged and looked around. “So where were we going?”

Samson gave him a hard look and when he refused to meet his eyes, he shrugged and gestured over his shoulder. “This way. Come on.”

They continued down the tunnel until it opened in a natural cave. Cullen was still disoriented from the ale and the impromptu and very ill-advised sex and he didn’t notice the unnatural quiet in the cave and the unusually low level of light. He rubbed his hand over his eyes then looked around to find that Samson had disappeared.

“Sorry, kid,” came Samson’s gravelly voice, full of regret, from the darkness and then there was the sound of multiple pairs of running footsteps.

Cullen drew his sword, the sudden flood of adrenaline doing a decent job of sobering him up as the first of the thugs burst out of the darkness. Cullen fought fiercely, his superb sword cutting deep into their cheap and inferior armour. But his reflexes were still slow and clumsy from the alcohol, he didn’t have a shield and he wasn’t wearing any armour and when the first long knife got past his guard and bit into his side, he cried out with a mix of pain and despair, knowing that he didn’t stand a chance against the thugs. He gave a loud war cry and threw himself into the midst of his enemies. If he was going to die, he was going to take as many of them with him as he could. He could feel their blades slicing into his arms and sides but it was the knife that bit deep into his thigh that brought him to the ground.

He looked up in time to see the thugs surround him with their blades at the ready and he steeled himself for the end.

“Kill him,” one of the thugs ordered.

“Can’t we take ‘im captive?” another whined. “Look at ‘im. ‘E’s pretty. We’d get good money for ‘im on the slave market.”

“No,” the first thug said. “He must be killed. The Elder One doesn’t want any loose ends when he makes his move. The Queen must be available for marriage, with no questions asked.”

Cullen was just trying to make sense of that when the thug who was apparently the leader suddenly sprouted an arrow out of the side of his head. The others gave startled oaths and looked around in surprise and as they did, a second one gurgled and died as an arrow lodged in his throat. Two more thugs were taken out by arrows before the others broke and started running. Cullen slumped back against the ground and only then did he start to feel the pain of his wounds. He knew he was bleeding far too much and he was fairly certain the first knife had hit something important.

All of a sudden, a face appeared in his field of vision. It was an elf, female, blonde and curious.

“’Ere, you alright?”

Cullen laughed then coughed. He could taste blood in his mouth and feel it speckling his lips. The elf’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Shite! You’re hurt.” She turned but Cullen couldn’t see who she was looking at. “You! Go get that freaky elf mage and his creepy friend. Now!”

Pain bloomed in his side and he cried out. The elf had pressed a wad of something against the wound in his side.

“Shite! Fuck. Sorry,” the elf said, starting to look a little panicked. “Gotta stop the bleeding, yeah?”

Cullen moaned and coughed, feeling more blood in the back of his mouth and a strange weakness crawling over him. “Tell… tell Evelyn… I’m… sorry.”

“Nuh-uh,” the elf said with a violent shake of her head. She pressed more firmly against the wound in his side and Cullen groaned in pain. “Not givin’ last messages. You wanna tell this bint something, you tell her yerself.”

Cullen laughed at the incongruity of Queen Evelyn being called a ‘bint’ and the sharp movement caused a flash of pain that overwhelmed him. As darkness claimed him, he heard the odd elf screeching at someone he couldn’t see.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the attack. Cullen is missed and the found. No one is happy about it.

When Cullen didn’t appear for the evening meal, Evelyn gave an exasperated sigh and pretended all was normal. She’d thought Cullen was coming out of his funk about Dorian and had been about to contact Madame Vivienne about putting the next stage of their plans into effect but if Cullen had gone back to sulking, that wouldn’t work. She waited patiently for dinner to finish then headed immediately up to the royal wing, Blackwall hard on her heels.

“What precisely are we doing, my lady?” Blackwall asked with a hint of exasperation.

“Cullen wasn’t at dinner,” Evelyn explained. “I don’t want him backsliding.”

Blackwall was aware of the ladies’ plans and he actually approved. He’d gotten to know the younger man during their morning training sessions and had come to like Cullen. He was earnest and honest and reliable but he had enough knowledge of how dark things could get to grind off any potential irritating edges. In many ways, Cullen was the kind of man Blackwall wished he could have been at that age instead of the arrogant reckless bastard he had been. Seeing Cullen cut down by Dorian’s apparent indifference had made him want to hunt down the courtesan and introduce him to some old-fashioned common sense but Evelyn had assured him they had things well in hand and that Dorian wasn’t entirely to blame.

“He seemed fine this morning,” Blackwall said. “A bit quiet but not like he was a week ago.”

“I know,” Evelyn replied. “That’s why I’m worried.” She shot him a small grin. “And kind of hoping that Dorian’s come to his senses and Cullen wasn’t at dinner for some excellent reasons.”

“Not sure I really want to see that, love,” Blackwall replied dryly.

“If that’s the case, I’ll shield your precious innocent eyes,” Evelyn said in the dry tones that Blackwall adored.

Evelyn knocked on Cullen’s door but there was no answer. She knocked again then carefully opened the door, listening intently to see if she was disturbing anything. When no one replied and she heard nothing, she opened the door fully and walked in. It was fairly obvious Cullen wasn’t there and she stuck her head into the bedroom to see if he was perhaps asleep. When she did, she noticed a few things.

“Huh. His new sword is missing but his armour is all there,” she said thoughtfully when she emerged back into the sitting room.

Blackwall was holding a piece of paper in his hand and he waved it at her. “There’s a note.”

Evelyn took the note from him and read it through. “A friend from Ferelden? He never mentioned anything to me.”

Blackwall shook his head when she looked over at him enquiringly. “Nor to me.”

Evelyn frowned. “This says afternoon. I don’t think Cullen would have missed dinner without sending some sort of message.”

“I agree,” Blackwall rumbled. “He’s pretty conscientious. What about Dorian? Would he know who this person is?”

“I hope so,” Evelyn said.

It wasn’t long before she’d gathered her Council and the message had been sent to the Courtesan’s Guild. They waited nervously, half expecting Cullen to come rushing in with many apologies about losing track of time but when the door opened, only Dorian walked through. More than one person in the room winced when they saw him. He looked drawn and exhausted, great black bags looming under his eyes and a forlorn, weary look on his face.

“Your Majesty,” he said with an elegant bow and a sense of resignation. He was clearly expecting some sort of dressing down and while Evelyn was tempted, she had other things on her mind right now.

“Do you know who this Ferelden friend is?” she demanded, shoving the note at Dorian.

He blinked and took the note, reading it over and then frowning. “I… yes. He was in the Hanged Man a while back. His name is Samson. He was a Templar back in Ferelden but he was expelled from the Order. He and… and Cullen were close once but they’ve drifted apart.” He scowled. “I… didn’t much care for him and got Cullen away from him as quickly as I could.”

“Do you think he could be a danger to Cullen?” Cassandra asked, one hand going to the hilt of her sword.

Dorian’s frown deepened and they could see the worry in his eyes. “I… don’t know. He’s… He’s addicted to lyrium so I think he’s unpredictable.” He scrubbed his face with one hand and some of his walls dropped enough that his misery began to show. “Maker’s balls. This is my fault.”

“We don’t know that anything’s happened yet,” Evelyn said, her voice steely. “And even if something has, it’s still not your fault.”

Dorian’s head shot up and they could plainly see the guilt and anguish in his expression. “Yes, it is. I’m supposed to be with him. I was… an idiot.”

Evelyn’s expression softened and she came over and placed a hand on his arm. “From what little Madame Vivienne was willing to tell me, it sounds like you had your reasons for what you did and said. Perhaps not very good reasons but reasons nonetheless. But it doesn’t matter now. We need to find Cullen and we need your help for that.” She gestured to the note. “Could your friend Varric help us?”

Dorian swallowed and nodded numbly. “I’ll… I’ll write a note. He’ll come if I ask.”

Josephine escorted him over to her desk and once he’d scribbled out a short note, she had it sent off with their fastest runner. Half an hour later, the door to the office opened and a dwarf hurried in. Varric was huffing and puffing and looked more than a little frazzled when he saw Dorian.

“Andraste’s arse, Sparkler,” he complained as he leaned over to catch his breath. “I thought you were dying or something.”

“Nice to know you care,” Dorian said with a wan smile. He held out the note. “Samson.”

Varric glanced over the note then handed it back, a frown growing on his face. “Yeah, him. Didn’t have any good reason to refuse him when he asked if I could contact Curly but I’ll admit something about it got my hackles up.”

All but Dorian exchanged glances at Varric’s use of ‘Curly’ in reference to Cullen but Dorian didn’t let them dwell on it.

“Did Cullen come to the Hanged Man?”

Varric nodded. “Yeah, he did. They seemed to be having a bit of a reunion, talking about old times and that, then…” He paused and sighed then continued a little reluctantly, “Then they started getting cozy together. Just before they left, Curly was all cuddled up next to this Samson fellow. To give the man some credit, Curly looked like shit and Samson seemed pretty concerned about him.”

Dorian tried not to let the pain of that revelation show, though he was fairly sure he was failing miserably. Why shouldn’t Cullen seek comfort from someone else, especially an old lover who knew him better than Dorian ever had? Hadn’t Dorian ripped out Cullen’s heart and stomped it on the floor? He didn’t deserve to have Cullen after that. And if hearing about Cullen and Samson hurt then he had no one to blame but himself.

“What happened then?” Evelyn asked.

“They left, Your Majesty,” Varric said. “I was trying to keep an eye on them but Curly caught sight of me and they left shortly afterwards. I was going to have them followed but a few of the Carta toughs tried to start something. By the time I’d boxed them on the ears, I’d lost track of Curly and Samson.”

Varric paused then continued, “Do you want me to nose around? See if I can trace where they went?” He grimaced. “I mean, it’s likely they just went to whatever flophouse Samson’s staying in but if you think it’s necessary?”

Evelyn didn’t even hesitate. “Do it.”

Varric nodded and with a deep bow to the Queen, he hurried out of the room. Dorian sank down into the nearest seat and buried his head in his hands, the note falling to the floor. He felt someone squeeze his shoulder then the others started up a low-voice conversation nearby.

The sudden booming knock that had the door shaking in its frame startled them all and Josephine hurried over to open it. Everyone was taken aback at the sight of the enormous horned Qunari standing outside and it wasn’t until Dorian looked up and swore that the tableau was broken.

“Bull?” Dorian said, coming to his feet.

Bull carefully walked through the door and bowed to the Queen.

“Something’s up,” the Qunari said gruffly. “That weird kid that works for the elf mage came by looking for you. He was pretty agitated and wasn’t making a lot of sense. What little we could get out of him that _did_ make sense… well, I think it was about Cullen.”

Dorian’s eyes widened. “Cullen? He’s with Solas?”

“Guess so if the kid was coming by,” Bull replied. He looked vaguely intimidated by being in the Stronghold and in the presence of the Queen and at any other time, Dorian would have teased him relentlessly about that.

Dorian was already heading for the door when an exasperated cry from the Seneschal stopped him. He turned to see that it wasn’t directed at him but at the Queen, who had been hot on his heels.

“Don’t, Josie,” Evelyn said flatly. “I am going with Dorian. You can send Blackwall and Cassandra with me but I’m going.”

Josephine took one look at the Queen and seemed to understand that this was an argument she had no hope of winning. “Very well, Your Majesty.”

The group of four left the Stronghold by one of the side exits and Dorian lead the way through the city and into the obscure residential quarter where Solas’ shop was located. Though they garnered a few curious glances, the glares on the faces of Cassandra and Blackwall were enough to have people steer well clear of them. When they finally arrived at the door of Solas’ shop, Dorian didn’t hesitate to enter. Inside, the young man, Cole, was waiting for them.

“Harmed, hurting, hoping. Struck down by a blade. Blood so red, so much pain. Grey eyes, beautiful, so beautiful. Love, loving, worthy of love. See him one last time?” Cole said, his eyes unfocused.

Dorian flinched as though he’d been struck and froze where he was standing for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. He’d encountered Solas’ strange friend before and had his personal fears and thoughts spread out in front of him in this way. He had no idea how Cole did it but it was always unnerving.

He swallowed hard. “Cole, please don’t. Not now.”

Cole blinked then ducked his head. “Sorry. So much hurt. I just want to help.” He pointed towards the back of the shop. “Through there. He’s through there.”

Dorian headed for the back room and led the way up the narrow stairs to the apartment upstairs. There in the middle of the main room lay Cullen. He had been stripped down to his smallclothes and there was so much blood that Dorian could only gasp and freeze where he was standing. Solas was working quickly but steadily on the unconscious man and another elf, a blonde haired woman was crouched on the back of the couch, watching with worry as she chewed on a thumbnail. She looked up when they entered and her eyes widened.

“Oi, baldy. The pretty one’s here.”

Solas barely spared a glance for the new arrivals. “Dorian, I know healing is not your forte but I could use your assistance.”

Dorian didn’t move, couldn’t move. He could only stand there and stare at all the blood on and around Cullen as a voice in his mind chanted, “ _My fault, my fault, my fault_.”

“Oi!”

Dorian gave a start as a screwed up piece of paper smacked into his head. He looked around and saw the blonde elf woman glaring at him.

“I didn’t subject myself to the creepy freak out there...” She gestured down towards the shop. “...just so’s you could stand round like a lump and let him die.

Oddly enough that was sufficient to get Dorian moving. He hurried forward and dropped down to his knees on the floor beside Cullen, ignoring the blood that immediately soaked into his breeches

“What do you need me to do?” he asked.

“How much healing _do_ you know?” Solas asked absently as he delicately wielded a healing spell against Cullen’s side. Dorian could see a partially healed wound on Cullen’s thigh as well.

“A couple of the minor spells,” Dorian said, wishing he knew more. He was more skilled at raising the dead than stopping people from reaching that state in the first place and for once, he actually regretted that.

“Finish healing that wound on his thigh,” Solas said. “Then start on the smaller injuries. If I don’t have to spare any energy for them, I can give everything to this wound.”

Normally Dorian might have objected to being ordered around by Solas but right now he didn’t hesitate to do what he’d been told. He had to concentrate to use the healing spells he knew and he was grateful for it. It kept him from cataloguing the wounds on Cullen’s body and thinking about how he’d received them and it stopped him from staring at the red marks on Cullen’s neck that were slowly purpling into bruises and being consumed with jealousy that someone else had put those marks there.

As he and Solas worked in a strange harmony, he could vaguely hear the sounds of the others moving around in the room, picking up Cullen’s ruined clothes, replacing bowls of filthy water and bloodied rags with clean ones and at one point, he was sure he heard someone leave the room. When they finally finished, Dorian sat back on his heels and looked over at Solas, feeling slightly dazed. He hadn’t used his magic so consistently in a long time.

“Let’s get him to bed,” the elven mage said quietly.

Dorian nodded and helped Solas lift Cullen off the floor. Blackwall joined them a moment later and between the three of them, they manoeuvred Cullen into the small bedroom and onto the bed. Dorian and Blackwall stepped back as Solas fussed with the blankets and pillows to settle Cullen as comfortably as possible.

“Will he…?” Dorian began but couldn’t finish the question.

“He will live,” Solas said quietly then he smiled kindly. “Do you wish to stay?”

Dorian hesitated then nodded. Solas smiled again and gestured towards the chair in the corner of the room. As the elf ushered Blackwall out of the room, Dorian grabbed the chair and dragged it over to the side of the bed. He sat down and gingerly picked up Cullen’s hand. It was lax and limp within his grasp but he took some heart from Solas’ words. Solas did not make false promises, that much he knew.

Out in the other room, Solas half-closed the bedroom door then looked around at his impromptu guests with interest. He’d certainly recognised the Queen when she’d walked in behind Dorian but only now did he recognise the Captain of the Stronghold Guard and the Queen’s Champion, the latter of whom was carrying a bundle of clothing that he assumed was for Cullen.

“Take them through,” he said to the Champion. “He will not wake for some time and it will be even longer before I will be comfortable seeing him moved.”

He waited until Cassandra returned then gestured for them to take seats at the small table in his kitchen. As they did, Cole crept into the apartment and started cleaning up the main room. Solas didn’t bother to try and stop him. He knew from long experience that it was futile. Instead he turned his attention to his guests.

“I fear I am ill-equipped for such illustrious guests,” he said with a self-deprecation that had served him well in the past. “But I could offer you water or tea, if you wish.”

“I’d rather know how Cullen is and how he ended up here,” Evelyn said brusquely.

Solas could see that she did not mean to be rude and was simply worried so he took no offence at her tone.

“He will live,” he said soothingly. “While the injuries were severe, it was the blood loss that had me worried more than anything else. As for how he got here, you have Sera to thank for that.”

He gestured to the elven girl who was still perched on the back of his couch and was now glaring suspiciously at Cole. She looked over at them and waved awkwardly.

“Thank you, Sera,” the Queen said and the elven girl’s eyes widened at being addressed so politely.

“Yeah, well, eight against one ain’t fair odds, are they?” she said. “Didn’t know he was a toff though.”

“Would that have made a difference?” Blackwall growled.

“Touchy, touchy,” Sera said with a sniff. “But nah. Ain’t fair to come at anyone like that. He fought better than any toff I’ve known before though.”

“Who were they?” Cassandra asked. “These men who attacked him?”

Sera shrugged. “Dunno. Didn’t recognise them. They ain’t ever been in that part of the city before.” She frowned. “There was another bloke with him but he scarpered before it all went down. Said he was sorry and all but he didn’t look too sorry. More sorry for himself, ya know?”

Evelyn, Blackwall and Cassandra exchanged glances. From what Sera had said, it appeared that Samson had set this up, though if there was any reason beyond simply killing Cullen, they didn’t know.

“Sera sent for me,” Solas said, picking up the thread of the explanation. “I stabilised Prince Cullen at the scene then brought him back here for further treatment.”

Evelyn frowned. “You knew who he was?”

Solas nodded. “Dorian brought him to meet me a few weeks ago. I was looking into a small matter for him regarding red lyrium.”

“Had you found anything?” Evelyn asked.

Solas sighed. “I confess it has been like chasing smoke. Just enough evidence to indicate that there is a fire somewhere but the trail peters out before I can find anything concrete on either location or severity.”

“But there is something out there?” Cassandra asked. “This red lyrium is in the city?”

Solas nodded. “Yes. That much I can say with certainty. Whoever is doing this is controlling the situation very tightly. I have had two contacts I spoke to about this go missing and I fear they are dead.” He hesitated for a moment. “There is something else. I have been hearing… rumours about Tevinter slavers being seen in the city.”

Evelyn scowled and straightened in her seat. “What?”

“I have not been able to confirm the rumours myself but they come from people I trust,” Solas said. “According to these rumours, the slavers are not purchasing, they are selling.”

Evelyn fumed and glared around the room, desperately trying not to take her anger out on anyone there. She’d worked damn hard to keep the slavers out of her city and her country, not even allowing them to use the roads to pass through. Slavery itself was strictly forbidden and anyone caught buying, selling or using slaves was subject to punitive fines and lengthy spells of incarceration.

“Do you believe the two matters are related?” Cassandra asked.

Solas hesitated and frowned a little. “I cannot say but I feel it is too much of a coincidence to ignore it entirely.”

“I’ll let Leliana know when we get back,” Evelyn growled. She then drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, forcing herself to calm down. “And thank you, Solas, for bringing this to my attention.”

Solas inclined his head slightly. “I had intended to contact Prince Cullen this week regarding both matters.”

“I can ask around too,” Sera said from her perch. She wrinkled her nose. “Those slavers’ll stick out like a sore thumb. Be good to hammer them down.”

“Get in touch with Leliana,” Blackwall said. “We’ll let her know about you.”

Sera wrinkled her nose but she nodded and looked a little excited.

“I will continue my enquiries as well,” Solas said.

“Thank you,” Evelyn said, including both Solas and Sera in her words. “For everything.”

Solas nodded and smiled slightly and Sera looked both pleased and a little uncomfortable with the attention. Though it was a little hard to tell whether it was truly the attention or the proximity of Cole which had caused her discomfort. Quite possibly it was both.

“I will keep you informed as to Prince Cullen’s progress,” Solas said, “but I estimate that it will be at least a week before he will be able to be moved back to the Stronghold. I have healed the wounds but the ones in his side and thigh were quite deep. I want to be sure they have healed properly internally.”

“Will he be safe here?” Evelyn asked. “Will you be safe having him here?”

Solas smiled thinly. “We will be fine. I have a certain amount of skill of my own and Cole is very adept with his blades.” He glanced towards the bedroom. “I cannot imagine I will be able to pry Dorian out of that room easily so there will be three of us.”

“I could assign a couple of men here,” Blackwall said.

“If we are trying to not draw attention to his presence here, that is not the way to do it,” Solas said, shooting an apologetic look at Blackwall. “Your people are well-trained but they are very obviously soldiers.”

Blackwall chuckled, not looking at all offended. “That they are and that’s what they’re meant to be.” He glanced over at Evelyn. “However the Queen might be more comfortable with some extra security.”

Solas looked amused. “I will ask Dorian to contact his Guild. Their guards are well-trained and used to blending in with the general populace.”

“That sounds fair,” Blackwall said.

Evelyn looked towards the bedroom. “This wasn’t exactly in our plans for reconciling Cullen and Dorian,” she muttered.

Solas gave her a curious look. “They required reconciliation?”

Evelyn smiled wearily. “It’s a long story but yes. So try not to let Dorian run away before Cullen wakes up.”

“I shall do my best,” Solas said with amusement.

“We should get back, love,” Blackwall said, touching Evelyn’s shoulder gently. “You’ll be missed before long.”

Evelyn nodded and crept over to the bedroom. She peeked in through the door and saw that Dorian was holding Cullen’s hand and his eyes were glued on Cullen’s face. She smiled sadly then cleared her throat and edged her way into the room. Dorian looked at her blankly for a moment then he blushed and went to let go of Cullen’s hand.

“Don’t,” she murmured.

She stepped up to the side of the bed and looked down at her husband. Cullen looked pale and drawn but he was sleeping peacefully enough. She let out a shuddering breath then leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Get better soon,” she whispered. “And don’t ever scare me like this again.”

She stood up and looked over at Dorian. Now her expression hardened a bit.

“Dorian…” She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “I know things haven’t always gone well for you but this is _Cullen_. If he says he loves you, he means it. Don’t throw away something so good just because you’re afraid.”

She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, dashing tears from her eyes almost defiantly. Dorian watched her go with wide eyes then he turned back to continue his watch over Cullen. He knew the Queen was right and now he had to convince himself of that.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath for Corypheus. He schemes some more.

Corypheus paced back and forth in his study and glared at Calpernia. “They _failed_?”

He gave her some credit when she didn’t flinch or draw back but instead stood her ground and kept her eyes on his.

“They injured him but before they could finish the job they were attacked by someone else,” she said.

“Who?”

“They never saw who it was.” She sneered. “The survivors ran. I have interrogated them and unless you wish to question them as well, I shall use them in my experiments with red lyrium.”

“Do so,” Corypheus snarled, waving one hand to dismiss the failed assassins completely.

“What of Samson?” Calpernia asked with disdain. “He left before they even began.”

Corypheus turned on her with a snarl, raw magic flowing off him with his anger. “He did so at my order, Calpernia. Do not speak of him with me again.”

Calpernia now looked cowed and she bowed low. “Yes, Your Grace. Do you wish for me to make another attempt on the prince?”

“Do you know where he is?” Corypheus said snidely.

“No, my Lord, but I will find out,” she said firmly.

Corypheus considered the woman for a moment. Calpernia thought very highly of herself and her abilities. Mostly she was correct. She was the most competent and skilled of all of his followers but her overconfidence was going to cause trouble at some point. He suspected that the Prince Consort had been well hidden and would not be so easily accessed. If he had disappeared so effectively now, he was likely being well protected and would continue to be protected in the future. He decided to let Calpernia discover that for herself.

“Very well,” he said. “Find him and if you do, finish him.” He levelled her with a dark look. “Personally.”

Calpernia hesitated for the barest of moments and Corypheus controlled his amusement. She liked playing the shadow mistress controlling her minions with ease. She was far less fond of actually getting her hands dirty. It was time for her to learn what was required of those he commanded.

“Yes, Your Grace,” she said with another of those low bows.

He dismissed her with a gesture then sent a servant after Samson. The man looked worn and seedy when he walked into the office and from the smell coming off him, he had been drinking steadily for some time before he’d sobered up and returned to Corypheus’ estate.

“The prince survived,” Corypheus said.

He was amused when the first thing to cross Samson’s face was relief then the man straightened and squared his shoulders.

“He’s not going to let me near him again,” he said hoarsely.

“That does not matter,” Corypheus said dismissively. “He is now Calpernia’s problem. I have a task for you in Orlais.”

Once again relief was the predominant emotion on Samson’s face before he got himself under control. 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Samson said. “What do you want me to do?”

“You will go to Val Royeaux and any other place you deem appropriate and collect information about Gaspard de Chalons,” Corypheus said. “You will leave tomorrow morning. You may take your pick from the stables. Any one except my horse.”

Samson bowed. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“You may go,” Corypheus said. 

He waited until Samson had left and sat down at his desk. It was definitely for the best to get Samson out of Skyhold for now. The Guard would be searching for him by tomorrow, if they weren’t already looking, and he felt it would be a good idea to keep Samson out of the vicinity of Calpernia’s waspish temper when she inevitably failed to either locate or kill Prince Cullen. He would not jeopardise his long term plans for Samson even for the entertainment value of watching Calpernia’s handiwork.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samson doesn't go entirely without a word. A bit of a filler chapter but it'll have more significance later.

When Varric slipped into the shop the day after Cullen had been hurt looking decidedly perturbed, Solas set aside his current research and waited for the dwarf to approach. He had observed during his time in Skyhold that Varric was remarkably difficult to disturb so to see him rattled now meant that something serious was afoot.

“Chuckles,” Varric said with a nod.

Solas sighed at the nickname that had been bestowed on him by the dwarf and gestured for him to go out the back. He followed a few moments later and ushered Varric upstairs. Once in the apartment, Varric’s gaze went immediately to the closed bedroom door.

“How is he?” Varric asked.

“Still sleeping,” Solas replied. “But that is not unexpected. He was seriously injured.”

“And Sparkler?”

“Last time I looked, he had finally fallen asleep,” Solas said. “When he wakes, I will see that he eats and bathes. I will even ensure he changes clothes if you would be willing to send a message to the Guild to fetch some for him.” He paused. “You might also mention we might need the services of their guards as well.”

Varric raised an eyebrow curiously but nodded when Solas refused to elaborate. “Sure, I can do that.” He hesitated for a moment then pulled a folded piece of dirty paper from his pocket. “I found this shoved under the door when I opened the tavern this morning.”

Solas took the piece of paper and unfolded it. He read the message on it and arched an eyebrow. “You believe this to be genuine?”

“Yeah,” Varric replied. “How many people know what happened? It has to be him.”

Solas read through the note again. It wasn’t long.

_Pass this on to Cullen._

_I’m sorry, kid. Think I’m in deeper trouble than I expected. Don’t try and get me out. Made my bed. I’ll lie in it now. They're still after you. Take care._

_Samson_

“I notice he does not name who is after Prince Cullen,” Solas said dryly.

“Yeah.” Varric snorted. “I suppose I can’t fault the man’s loyalty. He’s been bought and he’s going to stay bought.”

“And yet he sent this warning,” Solas mused. “Do you wish for me to send this on to Sister Leliana?”

Varric nodded. “If you could.” He glanced over to the bedroom door again. “Might want to forget to mention this to Curly. He seems like the crusading type and this Samson arse has done enough damage, I think.”

Solas considered that request then nodded. “Yes, I think that might be wise.”

“Right. I’ll head over to the Guild,” Varric said, giving a wave as he headed for the stairs.

Solas went back downstairs as well and gave the note to Cole with instructions to give it to the Spymaster. He also added the injunction to keep it from Cullen and hoped that Leliana would agree. He turned back to his research and was able to finish his search of at least one book before the door to the shop opened again and a young man walked in carrying a large bag.

“Hi,” the young man said with a tentative smile. “My name’s Krem. The Guild sent me.” he held up the bag. “This is for Dorian and I’m to stay on afterwards.”

Solas sized up the young man in an instant and smiled politely. “Excellent. Please come with me.”

He led Krem up the stairs and into the apartment. “Dorian is in there,” he said, pointing to the bedroom. “No doubt you have orders to ensure he is safe and well?”

Krem smiled ruefully. “They told me nothing gets past you.”

He opened the door to the bedroom carefully and stuck his head in. The room was dimly lit but it was easy to pick out Dorian, slumped over the side of the bed, fast asleep. He crept in quietly and left the bag next to Dorian’s chair then crept out again, closing the door softly behind him.

“Where’s the best place for me?” he asked.

“If you wish to pass as ordinary and don’t mind a little work, come downstairs,” Solas said. “I can put you to work in the shop.”

Krem looked around. “The stairs are the only way up here then?”

“Yes,” Solas replied. “Though I’d imagine I could make another exit if I really needed to.”

Krem blinked then nodded. “Okay. I’ll… take your word for it.”

Solas chuckled then led the way downstairs again. He could certainly find things for the young man to do and he was in truth glad to have the extra person around in the event of trouble.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finally wakes up. Dorian is confused and worried and wants to explain but it's not exactly the right time.

Dorian woke slowly, aware at first only that his neck was sore and his back was screaming at him. He sat up with a groan and where he was and what had happened quickly came rushing back. He looked down at Cullen but the man was still fast asleep. That was when he realised that there was a bag next to his chair. He eyed it narrowly for a moment but when he opened it, he saw his own clothes and a selection of his various soaps and creams and oils and realised it must have been sent along from the Guild. He glanced over at Cullen again then very reluctantly he picked up the bag and headed into Solas’ bathing room.

When he emerged, he was glad he had taken the time to wash and even gladder that someone had thought to send him a few changes of clothes. He’d forgotten that the knees of his breeches were soaked with Cullen’s blood and he’d stripped off the ruined pants with alacrity once he’d realised that. Now he was clean and dressed and he felt somehow like the world was in a better shape when he sat down next to the bed again.

He’d had time to think before he’d fallen asleep the previous evening and he’d come to the conclusion that Queen Evelyn was correct. Cullen was far too good a man to lie about his feelings and Dorian had been utterly in the wrong in the way he’d reacted. While it was true that he’d had a terrible experience in the past, he shouldn’t have placed Cullen in the same basket as that particular client. He suspected the Queen might tell him he was going too far in his self-flagellation but he could not get it out of his head that if he hadn’t rejected Cullen, the other man might never have gone to meet Samson and thus would never have been hurt. He glared at the purpling marks on Cullen’s neck. He certainly wouldn’t have those things on his neck or if he did, they would have been made by _Dorian_.

He felt there must be something slightly wrong with him that it was the evidence of Cullen taking up with Samson again that had rattled him almost more than the fact Cullen had been attacked with the intent to kill him. He didn’t like the idea that he could be so easily replaced and yet… he did not have the right to be jealous after what he’d done.

“D’rian?”

He sucked in a sharp breath and looked down at the bed to find Cullen staring up at him with bleary surprise.

“Cullen,” he breathed, taking the man’s hand and swallowing hard. “How do you feel?”

“Hurts,” Cullen whimpered.

Dorian reluctantly let Cullen’s hand go and reached over to the bedside table. He sorted through the potions and salves that had been left there and poured a healing potion into a goblet. He turned back to Cullen and gently raised his head enough so that he could drink.

“Drink this, Amatus,” he murmured. “It will make you feel better.”

Cullen drank the potion without demur and settled back against the pillow with a sigh. He closed his eyes and Dorian thought he was about to sleep again but he opened his eyes again.

“Y’r here.”

Dorian smiled wanly. “Yes, I am. Cullen, I…” He swallowed hard and took Cullen’s hand again. “I am so sorry. I was a fool. I never meant to hurt you. I just… Someone told me they loved me once before and they were lying. I should never have assumed you were the same.”

Cullen simply stared at him and Dorian wondered if he’d understood even a word of what he’d just said. Then Cullen tugged feebly at his hand.

“C’mere.”

Dorian frowned. “What?”

“C’mere,” Cullen repeated. “Look like hell. Sleep.”

“I can’t!” Dorian yelped. “Cullen, you’re hurt.”

“Want you here,” Cullen mumbled, still tugging weakly at Dorian’s hand.

Dorian shifted forward hesitantly. He climbed carefully onto the bed and settled against Cullen’s uninjured side. Cullen sighed happily and stared at Dorian until he cuddled closer, one arm thrown across his chest to avoid the horrible wound in his side. Dorian buried his face in Cullen’s neck and felt the sudden urge to sob. He tried to keep it under control but when Cullen hummed happily, he found he just couldn’t anymore. He nuzzled into Cullen’s neck and tried not to cry too loudly, his tears slipping down to wet Cullen’s skin.

“S’okay,” Cullen slurred, more asleep than awake by now. “Love you.”

The easy forgiveness implied in those two words forced a sob out of Dorian and he let himself just cry, even though the evenness of Cullen’s breathing told him the man was asleep again. When his tears finally subsided, he found he was exhausted and he let himself fall into sleep as well.

He woke to the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. He forced his eyes open, grimacing at the gummy feeling and silently swearing that he would never cry again, and found Solas standing next to the bed, eyeing him archly.

“It was his idea,” he mumbled, not really wanting to move. Cullen was warm and though there was a lingering odour of blood and sweat about him, underneath there was the familiar scent of Cullen.

Solas sighed and relented. “You did at least have the sense to avoid his injuries.”

As Dorian watched, Solas deftly changed the bandages on the two deep slices on Cullen’s side and thigh. Though the surface of the wounds had been healed, the deeper injuries still needed time to knit even with the aid given to them by the healing spells. The bandages were there more as a warning than a true necessity.

“They are healing well,” Solas said when he was done. “But he needs to continue resting.” He arched an eyebrow at Dorian. “How was he when he woke?”

“Drowsy but coherent,” Dorian replied. “He didn’t say much but he… understood what I was saying.”

“Good,” Solas said. “That is an excellent sign. I see you found your belongings. There is a young man named Krem here, who is acting as a guard under the Queen’s orders.”

It took a moment for the implications of that to sink in. “She thinks they might try again.”

Solas nodded even though it had been a statement and not a question. “They intended to kill. It seems likely they will try again if they can find him.”

“And will they find him?” Dorian asked.

“Unlikely,” Solas said serenely. “Sera and her people can be trusted and the only others who know are unlikely to betray either you or Cullen.” He cocked his head. “Nevertheless, it is better to be safe than sorry, hence the presence of Krem.”

With that, Solas left and Dorian lay back down and curled around Cullen as best as he could without risking the man’s healing wounds. He knew they needed to talk but that wasn’t likely to happen until Cullen was more coherent. Until then, he was going to have to take it on faith that Cullen had forgiven him. He hoped he hadn’t read too much in what little Cullen had said.

He drifted for a while then, slipping in and out of a light doze until Cullen shifted beside him. He propped himself up on one elbow and waited as Cullen slowly blinked himself awake. For a moment, he looked confused then he saw Dorian and he smiled slowly.

“Dorian,” he murmured. “You’re here.”

Dorian chuckled. “You said that before.”

“Hmmm,” Cullen said with a frown then his eyes widened. “Samson… he… he lead me to them.”

Dorian pressed a finger against Cullen’s lips. “Shhh, Amatus. We know. Sera, the woman who rescued you, saw him running off before you were attacked.”

Cullen winced. “I… I let him…” He turned away and Dorian realised what Cullen was talking about.

“Cullen,” he said with a sigh, tilting the man’s head back so he could look him in the eye. “You don’t need to apologise. I’m the one who abandoned you. You have every right to do whatever want with whomever you want. I lost my right to be jealous when I insulted you so horribly.”

“Are you jealous?” Cullen asked and even though he was clearly exhausted and in pain, there was nevertheless a glint of humour in his eyes.

Dorian leaned forward and dared to press a chaste kiss against Cullen’s lips. “Horribly jealous,” he said in a low intent tone. “It should have been _me_ leaving those marks on your neck, not _him_.”

“Wanted it to be you,” Cullen replied, his eyes dark. “Didn’t want to believe you meant what you said.”

“I didn’t, Amatus,” Dorian said sadly. “And I will explain myself fully when you are better but for now, know that I am most dreadfully sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

“You’re here,” Cullen said with a slow smile. “I’ve already forgiven you.”

Dorian caressed his cheek. “I don’t deserve you, Cullen. I truly don’t.”

“That’s for me to decide,” Cullen replied. “But I will want that explanation.”

His eyes were drooping again and Dorian continued to caress his face and neck. He dreaded that explanation and yet, for the first time since it happened, he wanted to tell him what had happened so that he could move past it and not let it affect what he had with Cullen.

“Sleep, Amatus,” he murmured. “It’s the best thing for you.”

“Stay,” Cullen said, a bare breath of a word as he slipped back into sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is finally awake and coherent for long enough to explains the extra details of what happened.

By the time Solas was next able to return to his apartment, Krem had been replaced by an enormous Qunari. He had been suspicious and wary at first. His impressions of the Qunari from before he’d settled in Skyhold had not been good but the Iron Bull, as this Qunari had introduced himself, had turned out to be an interesting contradiction in terms. A man still clinging to the vestiges of the Qun despite the fact that he had not been back to the land of his birth in years. A man who had been raised in rigid obedience and a singularity of thinking but who had an active and extraordinary intelligence. They had ended up playing chess - without a chess board - and Solas had found Bull to be an interesting and formidable opponent. Bull had not yet quite established what Solas’ preferred style of play was but he felt that once he did, their matches would become even more challenging.

Bull had been more than happy to settle himself down in the shop with a bedroll and a book when evening rolled around despite Solas’ invitation to stay in the apartment. Not that he could offer more than a spot of floor even in the apartment at the moment. Cullen was currently occupying his room so he had set up a camp bed in Cole’s room for the duration and while his couch was comfortable for sleeping on, it had been designed for elves and humans, not far taller and broader Qunari. Bull had however revealed that he was the Guild’s Guard Captain and that the Guild was taking both Dorian and Cullen’s safety very, _very_ seriously. So Solas had let him be and promised to bring down dinner once it was ready.

Before he could start preparing that meal, he needed to check on Cullen. He still felt a residual weakness from the healing he’d done. He had certainly studied the healing magics but they were not his speciality, hence the fact that he had not been able to do the full healing of the deeper aspects of the wounds. He would have suggested bringing in a proper healer but time would heal what was left of Cullen’s wounds as well as any magic and he’d felt it might be best to keep the young man out of sight for the moment. The healing of his wounds was an excellent reason to keep him quiet and in one place while the enemy, whoever that was, searched for an opportunity to make a second attempt at Cullen’s life. While Cullen was here, it gave Leliana, Sera, himself and others a chance to try and find out what was going on.

He opened the door to the bedroom to find that Dorian was still curled rather gingerly around Cullen and was fast asleep but that his patient was awake. Cullen was watching him with a blurry, wary gaze and he smiled slightly as he came over to the bed and knelt down beside it.

“I am pleased to see you are awake,” he said. “Do you remember me?”

Cullen paused then nodded. “Solas. Your name is Solas.”

“Yes. Very good,” Solas said. “I just need to check your wounds.”

Cullen nodded and let Solas set to work in silence. Once he had ascertained that the internal healing was progressing well, he replaced the bandages and moved the blankets back into place.

“What happened?” Cullen asked.

“What do you remember?”

“I was… walking with Samson,” Cullen said. He hesitated for a moment, his cheeks stained with pink, before he drew in a shallow breath and continued. “We… I… was ambushed. Samson… ran? I think he ran. He said sorry.” He gave a small shake of his head. “I was attacked. I fought but… there were too many. They were supposed to kill me, though one of them wanted to sell me to slavers. Then… arrows? There was an archer, maybe more than one. Some of them were killed, the rest ran. There was an elven woman, blonde, strange accent. I don’t remember much else.”

“You remember what happened. That is enough.” Solas sat back on his heels. They now had their confirmation that the assassins had intended to kill and that whoever had ordered it was in contact with slavers. “The blonde elf is Sera. She sent for me and I brought you here to heal you as best as I could. I sent Cole to the Guild to fetch Dorian and he arrived here with the Queen, Captain Blackwall and Lady Pentaghast not long after that.”

Cullen nodded his understanding. “Thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary, Prince Cullen,” Solas said with a small smile. “I am simply glad I could help.”

Cullen nodded awkwardly then he frowned. “Wait. The leader… he said something odd. He said… the Elder One doesn’t want any loose ends when he makes his move and that the Queen must be available for marriage, no questions asked.”

“The Elder One?” Solas said quietly. “He said nothing else about this person?”

“No,” Cullen replied. He still looked a little tired and worn but he was alert and coherent, which was pleasing to Solas. “He sort of sprouted an arrow out of his head right after that.”

Solas chuckled. “Sera does have a certain alarming directness about her.”

“Her timing was excellent,” Cullen said dryly. “Will you thank her for me?”

“I shall certainly pass that on,” Solas replied. 

Cullen frowned. “The Queen… Evelyn…?”

“Was very concerned about you,” Solas replied. “I have been keeping her up to date with your progress. No doubt she will be back as soon as she can slip the court’s notice. I understand that your absence is being explained as a serious bout of the late summer cold that goes through this city every year. It’s early for it but not suspiciously early. No one is questioning it and the servants who work in the royal wing are eagerly playing along. It seems they have become rather fond of you.”

Cullen blushed, an action that charmed the elven mage. He had heard through his own contacts that Cullen was universally polite and considerate with the servants and had thus earned their undying loyalty. Proof positive that a little kindness went a very long way. It kindled a sudden thought in his mind. Their unseen and unknown enemy undoubtedly had servants - hirelings like the ones who had attacked Cullen did not come cheap and Skyhold’s underworld was too suspicious to allow someone like this Elder One to go unknown for too long thus his inclination was to think noble and wealth - and servants see and hear more than their masters were often aware. He made a mental note to start asking around the servants and see what came of that.

“I shall continue my enquiries,” Solas said, rising to his feet. “Now that we have a way of referring to our enemy, it might be easier to find information.” He paused. “I should say that I had been intending to contact you about the matter you asked me to look into. It has been a frustrating search to say the least. I am certain that this red lyrium is present in the city, I have not been able to track it down.”

“It… sings,” Cullen said, grimacing a little.

“It what?”

“It sings,” Cullen said. “In your head when you get close to it. And you hear whispers. It’s very… odd. It drives people mad if they’re in contact with it for too long. I’m sorry. I should have told you before.”

“That will make it easier,” Solas said. “People are more likely to remember being in a place that makes them uneasy, even if they do not know why. Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Under the circumstances, do you suppose you could just call me Cullen?” The prince smiled wryly. “You’ve seen me half-dead and healed me, after all. A little familiarity seems only right.”

Solas chuckled as he saw why the servants were so fond of the man. He was truly one of the most unassuming nobles Solas had ever met. “I believe I could do that, Cullen. Now get some rest.”

He heard Cullen grumble under his breath about rest being all he was doing right now and he chuckled again as he closed the door behind him. He glad to hear the complaints. It meant Cullen was healing.


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samson's pretty sure he's not the man Cullen thinks he is but maybe he is...

Samson rode through the Orlesian countryside and tried not to think about what he’d left behind. He was usually very good at doing that. He’d been avoiding looking back and thinking about what’d left behind for years now. This time however it was different. This time guilt hung heavy in his chest and kept him from blithely moving on. He’d left Cullen behind before so it shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t be wallowing in guilt and grief, especially when he knew Cullen had survived. Maybe he was mourning the snapping of whatever thin thread had still bound them together, for that was surely irreparably severed after what he’d done.

He knew he shouldn’t have let the kid initiate the sex that had occurred, as rushed and inadequate as it had been, but he’d wanted it. They’d worked well together back in the day. Their fighting styles had complemented each other and Cullen had been one of the few highborns who hadn’t minded Samson’s gruff coarseness. He’d been wary of the kid at first. Who wouldn’t be? In his experience, highborn kids like Cullen didn’t hang around lowborn nobodies like him unless they were looking for trouble or _were_ trouble. But Cullen had been… genuine. Young, naive in many ways, world-weary in others and completely adorable when he blushed and laughed. He’d felt annoyed that the kid could even make him _think_ the word adorable but it had fitted the situation. 

The day that Cullen had leaned in and kissed him was a bittersweet remembrance. He should have ended it then before it even began. He’d known even in that moment that it wasn’t going to end well. It couldn’t end any other way. They were too different. But he’d wanted Cullen and he’d always been selfish with his wants and desires. So he’d taken what Cullen was offering and given back as much as he could in return. Then had come the Blight and the lyrium and Maker how he’d enjoyed how that felt. How it made them strong and powerful and blunted the fear and the stink of taint in the air. He’d taken all that he could and encouraged Cullen to do the same. He’d been so convinced that they weren’t going to survive that he hadn’t cared about any aftereffects. And he’d enjoyed the way it had altered the sex with Cullen. It made them both slower to respond to the initial arousal but once it built, they could make it last for hours until it burnt out. He had many very pleasant memories of Cullen arching and writhing into his touch, begging to be allowed to come.

He scowled and shook his head. He was a damn fool for dwelling on this. It was over. Leading Cullen into that ambush ensured that it was completely and utterly over. A bridge burned beyond any possibility of repair. The best he could do in terms of reparations was make sure the kid was on alert for the inevitable second attempt. The shrivelled remains of his conscience had pushed at him to do more, to give some indication of who was behind this but he knew that if he had, Corypheus would have found out and Corypheus was his only source of lyrium that didn’t charge a small fortune for it. The idea that Corypheus was charging more than money had occurred to him but he was easily able to push that sort of abstract concept far away from his thoughts with a long-practised ease.

By the time he reached the inn where he’d planned to spend the night, he’d worked himself into a headache. He grumbled his way through getting a room and asked for a meal to be brought up. Normally he’d want to lose himself in whatever piss weak brew passed for ale in this place but tonight he just wanted a meal and the lyrium. As he paced the room, waiting for the first part of that, he couldn’t shove away the lingering thought that he owed Cullen more than just the vague note he’d left at the Hanged Man. He argued with himself through his meal and the process of dosing himself with the lyrium provided by Corypheus and it was in the euphoric haze that was the immediate aftermath of that when he finally got up and pulled a tattered piece of paper out of his pack. He dashed down a few sentence then summoned the inn’s boy, sending him off with the message and few coins. Only then was he able to lie down on the bed and find some peace. He wasn’t a good man, never had been and likely never would be, but he liked to think he wasn’t a complete lost cause.

And he owed Cullen this much at least.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what Corypheus and Calpernia have been doing with the red lyrium. These two are creepy.

Corypheus made his way down into the basement chambers that formed Calpernia’s laboratory. The eerie singing of the red lyrium was particularly intense down here but Corypheus paid it no mind. He had gotten used to it in the days since Calpernia had handed to him her first triumph. The red lyrium amulet had been a masterpiece in construction and even now it hung around his neck. Just this morning he had discovered that he had bonded itself to the flesh of his chest and he had rid himself of the chain with relief. Calpernia had assured him that her amulet would make the assimilation process smooth and painless and ensure he remained in control and she had proven herself to be correct. He had spent the morning experimenting with his magic and the red lyrium had given him a power that was intoxicating.

“Your Grace,” Calpernia said, emerging from a cell and bowing deeply to him.

“Calpernia,” he said with a nod. He touched his chest where the amulet lay embedded in his skin. “It has begun.”

Calpernia’s eyes brightened and she gestured for him to enter her workroom. “Excellent. May I see it, Your Grace?”

Corypheus nodded and drew apart the upper section of his robes. The skin was raw and red around where the amulet was crawling into his body but he felt no pain. The red lyrium sang inside him and soothed any aches. He exerted control then and the singing faded to the background. Calpernia had been watching him intently during all of this.

“You can control it,” she said with a thin smile.

“I can,” he replied. “Your work is excellent as always.”

Calpernia preened under the praise and Corypheus controlled the smirk that was threatening. Calpernia was easily manipulated and controlled. A former slave, she required only the freedom to act upon her desires as she’d always wanted and the praise that her upbringing as a slave had conditioned into her and she was easy to mould and shape in whatever direction he desired. Withdraw his approval and offer censure and she would cower and bow and scrape and do whatever was necessary to regain his approval. He knew she desired him as a woman to a man and he used that as adeptly - and as cruelly - as he did everything else, holding that potential future over her to draw her ever onward in the direction he wanted her to go.

He stood still as she examined the amulet and the skin of his chest. She was careful not to touch either and he smirked. For all that her research was extraordinary, she feared the red lyrium and what it could do. Corypheus viewed that attitude with scorn. That was where he felt she would lag far behind Samson and perhaps one day lose her usefulness entirely. The former Templar already knew the power inherent within the blue lyrium, when it came time to introduce him to the red lyrium, he knew that Samson would see its potential and embrace it. He would have his General and through Samson, he would be able to draw other disaffected Templars to his side to act as his army. An army grown powerful on red lyrium, obedient to him and him alone and one that would be resistant to and able to nullify any mages.

“Do you feel any pain, my Lord?” she asked.

“No,” Corypheus replied. “I can hear the red lyrium’s inherent song and I can already access its power.”

“Do you wish to go ahead with the next stage?” Calpernia asked.

Corypheus nodded. “Yes. Have you completed the shielding device?”

“I have,” Calpernia said. She turned back to one of the long benches in the room and picked up an elegant ring with what looked like a large sapphire on it. Only close contact would tell anyone that the sapphire was only the outer layer and that underneath sat a chunk of blue lyrium. “This will hide the red lyrium’s effect from those around you but the more red lyrium you absorb, the less effective it will be.”

“That is of no matter,” Corypheus said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “By the time the red lyrium is overriding the ring’s protection, it will not matter any longer.”

He slid the ring on his right ring finger then held out his hand again. “The next piece.”

Calpernia picked up a bronze cuff that held four shards of red lyrium. Corypheus quickly stripped out of his outer robes and the shirt he was wearing beneath. Once he was done, Calpernia carefully fitted the cuff to his left bicep and closed it around his arm.

“I predict that your body will assimilate this piece faster than the amulet,” she said, stepping back as Corypheus dressed again. “Now that it knows the red lyrium it will see no reason to reject it.”

“Excellent,” Corpyheus said, settling his clothes so that no sign of the cuff was visible. “How goes your search for the Prince Consort?”

Calpernia scowled, an expression that rendered her highly unattractive. “Poorly. My contacts have not been able to get any information from the Guild. The Stronghold servants are adamant that Prince Cullen is in the Stronghold and is ill with the late summer cold. My people have not been able to get past them to confirm whether he has been brought back there.”

“I see,” Corypheus said in an arch tone that made Calpernia flush.

“I will find him,” she said through gritted teeth.

“See that you do,” Corypheus said. “The Prince Consort is a loose end that needs to be dealt with. I cannot advance my plans while he is still alive.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Calpernia said, her expression wavering for a brief moment.

Corypheus turned and headed for the door. “You know that I do not tolerate failure, Calpernia.” He paused and glanced over his shoulder. “But I know you will not fail me, my Calpernia.”

He gave her an austere smile that caused her to flush and her eyes to fill her with smothered delight and walked out of the room, the smile morphing into a cruel smirk at the woman’s reaction to his small sign of favour.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for some explanation between Cullen and Dorian.

It was the fourth day after the attack before both Dorian and Cullen were awake at the same time and Cullen was healed enough to _stay_ awake and alert for more than about fifteen or twenty minutes at a time. Dorian had barely left his side and an array of Guild guards had stood guard in Solas’ shop and occasionally poked their head into the room to check on them. Dorian was certain that they were reporting back to Madame de Fer but he had no objection to that. The Queen had also made a few clandestine appearance and just that morning Dorian had been unceremoniously turfed out of the room by Cassandra so that the two of them could talk. When the Queen had left and Dorian had been allowed back in the room, he’d found Cullen was calm and settled, albeit it a bit frustrated with his enforced rest. The midday meal had come and gone since then and Krem had dropped by for a short visit but for the last hour they had been alone and Dorian had taken the opportunity to curl up beside Cullen and read from one of the less objectionable of Varric’s books.

“He sent the story to Evelyn, you know,” Cullen said, interrupting Dorian’s reading.

“Hmm?” Dorian said, looking down at the man lying in the bed.

“Varric,” Cullen said with the barest hint of a smile. “He sent that story he threatened to write about the… the first time we kissed to Evelyn.”

“Maker’s breath,” Dorian said with amused exasperation.

“She read it out in the middle of a Council meeting,” Cullen said. “Josephine was in on it and when I tried to stop them, Leliana told me to hush and look pretty.”

Dorian laughed and set the book aside, shifting so that it was easier to look down at Cullen. “I can’t imagine Captain Blackwall was overly thrilled at this turn of events.”

“Not particularly,” Cullen said ruefully, a blush staining his cheeks. “But Cassandra was all for it so we were completely outvoted.”

Dorian’s smile faded into something far more bittersweet. “I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

“Dorian…” Cullen began. 

“No,” Dorian said firmly. “I do. I behaved abominably and it was in no way your fault.”

Cullen raised a hand and brushed his fingers along Dorian’s cheek. The courtesan captured that hand with his own and pressed a kiss into the palm.

“In Tevinter, for those among my… social background, anything between two men is considered shameful,” Dorian said, unable to meet Cullen’s eyes though he kept hold of the other man’s hand as though it was an anchor. “To be kept hidden and never spoken of. It was… a major source of disagreement between my father and me, since I refused to hide my preferences and I _certainly_ refused to marry the woman he wanted me to.” He smiled wanly. “So I do have some experience with the concept of arranged marriage. I was just able to escape mine.”

“Is that why you left Tevinter?” Cullen asked quietly.

Dorian nodded. “My father was going to carry out a blood magic ritual to make me… _normal_. I refused and fled to the south. I ended up here and through a number of circumstances, I ended up becoming a courtesan. It… suited me. I gained interesting companionship and the sex was no longer something considered shameful and disgusting.” He drew in a breath and let it out in a huff. “Then, about a year and half ago, I was contracted to a new client. I won’t tell you his name but he was… charming. Intelligent, educated, handsome, witty, everything I found attractive in a man. I fell in love and he… he professed to love me as well.”

Cullen drew in a breath but Dorian stopped him with a finger on his lips before he could say anything.

“Please let me finish,” Dorian said. “This… is not something I have spoken about often and I would like to get it all out first.” Cullen nodded silently and Dorian removed his finger. “I was deliriously happy and I began contemplating either a permanent contract or even retirement. But then… I found him with another man. Normally that would not have been an issue - I might even have offered to join them - but for his professions of love. When I confronted him, he… he told me he had never loved me. That he had used me to make his lover jealous so that they could rekindle their relationship. And now that he had achieved his goals, he was terminating the contract and he no longer wanted or needed my services.”

“Dorian,” Cullen whispered, the pain in his voice echoing the vestiges of what Dorian had felt at the time.

“I was… devastated,” Dorian whispered. “Broken. It took months to pick up the pieces and put myself back together again. I might not have succeeded at all if not for Madame Vivienne and Bull. I had never fallen in love before. I could never allow myself to do so in Tevinter. I had thought things would be different here. That I could do so openly and without shame and he… broke me.” 

Now, for the first time since he had begun, he looked down at Cullen. The blond man was lying there with a stricken expression on his face. He looked like he wanted to speak but he was waiting for Dorian to finished.

“So when you… when you said you loved me, I… couldn’t bear to believe it,” he said, his voice shaking and cracking. “I couldn’t bring myself to believe that you meant it. I could only remember the last time that happened and how much it hurt when I found out he had lied. So I lashed out in some stupid attempt to protect myself from something that wasn’t even there. I was cruel and so very, very wrong. I can only hope that you will forgive me someday.”

Cullen cupped Dorian’s cheek. “I meant it,” he said softly. “I _mean_ it and… and I do forgive you.”

“Cullen,” Dorian breathed, leaning into his touch. “How can you…?”

“Because you had cause,” Cullen said. “Because you weren’t being deliberately cruel for no reason. I do wish you’d… told me, spoken to me about this. Told me _why_ but I understand.”

“I’m not sure I deserve this,” Dorian said in a shaky voice.

Cullen gave an equally wobbly smile. “I think you do. I’m pretty sure my opinion is the important one here.”

Dorian gave a soft breath of a laugh then he licked his lips. “Say it again.”

Cullen didn’t even try to pretend that he didn’t know what Dorian meant. He slid the hand that had been cupping Dorian’s cheek around to the back of his neck and pulled him close so that their lips were almost touching.

“I love you,” he murmured.

Dorian closed his eyes and shuddered, his breathing slow and shaky. 

“I love you,” Cullen said again and this time he closed the gap between then and kissed Dorian slowly and gently.

Dorian whimpered into the kiss, almost unable to believe this gorgeous, beautiful man was willing for forgive him for what he’d said and done.

“I…” he said when the kiss ended. He tried to continue but couldn’t find the words.

“Shh,” Cullen said, kissing Dorian quickly. “You don’t need to say it back until you’re ready and you’re sure.”

Dorian made a soft noise and buried his face in Cullen’s neck, wrapping himself around the man as best as he could without aggravating his injuries. He made that soft noise again when Cullen’s arm came up and wrapped around him and Cullen nuzzled into his hair with a sigh.

“You are an impossible creature,” he said in a whine that ended in a soft laugh.

Cullen chuckled. “The last time someone called me impossible, they weren’t being very complimentary.”

That startled a laugh out of Dorian and he nuzzled the side of Cullen’s neck for a moment before raising his head. “How impossible were you being?”

“Very,” Cullen said with that little smirk that Dorian adored.

Dorian laughed again then leaned up so that he could kiss Cullen. He kept it light and sweet, not wanting to do anything to put any stress on Cullen’s healing wounds, not just for Cullen’s sake either. He was fairly sure that Solas would do very interesting thing to his innards if he caused any sort of setback. Then something occurred to him and he sobered a little, his gaze going to Cullen’s neck at the fading marks there. He ran a finger along them and bit his bottom lip. Cullen pulled his hand away from them and kissed the palm of his hand.

“Samson told me I’d regret my decision when I sobered up,” Cullen said sombrely. “And I have to say he’s right.” He grimaced. “Mind you, he probably also didn’t think I’d survive to regret it but that’s rather beside the point.”

Dorian was silent for a moment. “I’m horribly jealous even though I have no right to feel that way.”

“I was drunk,” Cullen admitted. “And I just wanted to feel something other than utterly miserable for a little while.” He hesitated for a moment. “It was little more than just… getting off and I think I only did it because I knew it was never going to go anywhere. I’d feel bad about… about _using_ Samson like that but he did lead me into an ambush so I’m not really inclined to.”

“Why would he do that?” Dorian said with a shake of his head. “You were friends… lovers. How could he betray you like that?”

“Lyrium,” Cullen said with a snort. “He’s an addict, Dorian. Addiction makes you selfish. I’m sure whoever got him to do that has promised him a regular supply of high quality lyrium. He’d do a lot worse than what he did for that.”

“You were addicted,” Dorian said in a small voice.

Cullen gave a thin smile and nodded. “I was, though nowhere near what Samson is now. But I still remember what it was like when the cravings hit, what it was like to _need_ it so badly you’d do just about anything.”

“Please don’t tell me you forgive him for what he did?” Dorian said, sounding appalled.

“I don’t,” Cullen said with a shake of his head. “I understand how and why he could have done it but that doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven him. If Sera and her friends hadn’t arrived when they did, I’d be dead. That makes it very hard to forgive him.”

“Good,” Dorian said firmly. “You have a big heart, Cullen, but I worry it’ll get you in trouble.”

Cullen smiled and caressed Dorian’s cheek. “You’ll just have to keep me out of trouble, won’t you?”

Dorian’s smile at that was incredibly sweet. “Yes, I shall.”

For a moment they just looked at each other then, by unspoken agreement, Dorian picked up the book and began reading again. He shifted into a more comfortable position and when Cullen began to run his fingers through his hair, he could only smile.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana schemes, an unexpected letter is received and Cullen and Dorian get up to some mild shenanigans. Solas is unimpressed.

It was nearly midnight when Leliana slipped out of the Stronghold and into the streets of Skyhold. She rarely got personally involved in the more hands on side of things these days but given that Prince Cullen had actually been attacked in the city, she was taking a personal interest into everything involved in that, up to and including the rumour of this new faction in the city. Though it was little more than a theory at the moment, she believed that the faction, Duke Corypheus, the red lyrium, the slavers and the attack on Prince Cullen were all related far more closely than anyone had yet considered. It worried her that this faction had felt confident enough to attack Cullen despite not having appeared to have done anything open before. It did not bode well that they were so bold so early.

She slipped in through the side door of the Hanged Man and from there into the room Varric had said he would reserve for them. She was the last to arrive and Varric, Solas, Sera and Bull were already there. She arched an eyebrow at seeing Bull there but made no comment. The Captain of the Guild’s Guards would not be here without a reason. She accepted the glass of wine from Varric then sat down.

“What have you found out?” she asked.

“Before any others start,” Solas said, raising his hand slightly. “Cullen has improved enough to tell me what he remembers of what happened to him. It wasn’t something I wanted to put in writing. He said that the thugs who attacked him mentioned that someone calling themselves the Elder One ordered the attack and, as we all assumed, the goal was to kill him. One of the thugs suggested selling Cullen to slavers but that was vetoed. Apparently this Elder One wants the Queen to be available for marriage though no reason was given as to precisely why.”

“Elder One,” Bull said thoughtfully. “I’ll spread the word around the Guild. See if anyone’s clients are talking about someone calling themselves that.”

“You might also ask them to think back to any places where they felt strangely uncomfortable,” Solas added. “Another thing Cullen was able to tell me is that red lyrium sings, as he put it. It sings and whispers in the mind and makes people feel uncomfortable. That is something your guards and well as the courtesans might have noticed but dismissed as being… all in their mind, so to speak.”

Bull growled. “Just what we need. Creepy magic stuff screwing with people’s minds.”

“For once, I agree with you,” Solas said dryly. “I think we must make locating this red lyrium a priority.”

“It’s all a priority,” Leliana said. “I believe they’re all connected far more thoroughly than we’ve allowed for previously. I don’t think it is any coincidence that the attack on Prince Cullen came only after he instigated the investigation into red lyrium.”

“Who knew that information came from Cullen?” Solas said.

“You, me, everyone in the Council meeting,” Leliana said quickly. “However I have since questioned my agents and two of them at least implied that he was the source of the information.” Her expression hardened and even Bull shivered at the sight. “They have been disciplined for their transgression.”

“I’ve been asking round the little people. Servants like, for the toffs,” Sera said, her nose wrinkled as she slouched in her seat. “Lotta talk but no one’s sayin’ anything yet.”

“Why? Leliana asked.

“They’re scared,” Sera said. “Something’s going on and a lotta them are scared. I’m workin’ on it but I ain’t got anything to offer ‘em.”

“Tell them to come by the Guild if something happens,” Bull said. “If we can’t put them to work ourselves, we can find work for them.”

“Yeah?” Sera said, brightening up and sitting up in her seat.

Bull nodded. “We’ve got plenty of contacts around the city and even outside if they need to get right away.”

“Alright!” Sera said, looking relieved. “Didn’t want to put ‘em in danger when I couldn’t help.”

“Have you heard anything about the slavers?” Leliana asked.

“Yeah,” Sera said, scowling suddenly. “They’re coming in and out by disguising themselves as ore traders. Mostly coal, cos no one wants to get all grubby by poking around a coal cart.”

“That will change,” Leliana said dryly. “Thank you, Sera. This is invaluable information. Please keep looking.”

“Sure,” Sera said, trying to be casual but clearly liking the praise. “I want ta help Curly. He’s nice for a toff. Even laughed at my jokes.” She grinned. “He’s got a funny laugh. All snorty and honky.”

“Speaking of Cullen or rather that dodgy friend of his,” Varric said. “I’ve been trying to trace him. Can’t find where he’s been staying in the city but he left the day after Cullen was attacked.” He paused and raised an eyebrow at Leliana. “He was riding a very nice horse. Far better than someone in his position could have afforded. We’re talking a nobleman’s horse here.”

“I think it is time to start investigating Duke Corypheus’ involvement in these matters,” Leliana said coolly. “It was his petition that keyed Cullen into the possibility of red lyrium and he has been… troublesome in the past. He may know who this Elder One is and be aiding him.”

The others took note of the name and Leliana felt no need to say anymore. They were each skilled in their own ways and there was no need for her to direct their actions. They each had a vested interest in this matter so she only needed to give them a starting point.

“How far do you wish us to go if we discover something?” Solas asked.

“As far as you feel safe,” Leliana replied. “But remember that if you’re dead, you can’t give me any information at all.”

Solas gave a small thin smile. “Understood.”

There were a few minutes of conversation where everyone cross checked what they already knew and what needed to be found out then the Bull, Solas and Sera headed off, leaving Varric and Leliana in the room. Leliana arched an eyebrow at the dwarf and waited for him to say whatever it was he thought shouldn’t be said in front of the others. Varric seemed to dither for a moment then he closed the door to the room and pulled out a dirty envelope.

“It’s for Curly,” Varric said grimly. “And I recognise the handwriting. It’s from that Samson fellow.”

“Have you read it?” Leliana asked.

Varric smiled wryly. “No, though I’ve been tempted.”

Leliana stared at the letter for a moment then took it from the dwarf. “I’ll take it to him. If Samson is writing now, it’s either to taunt or because there is some vestige of the man who was a fairly decent Templar left in him. Either way, we cannot keep this from Cullen. He is not a child and he would not welcome our interference.”

“We kept the other one from him,” Varric said.

“His recovery was more perilous at the time and it would have served nothing to give him that note,” Leliana replied. “Though I will tell him of it when I deliver this.”

Varric sighed and nodded. “How is he, by the way?”

“Recovering well,” Leliana replied then a small mysterious smile grew on her face. “Dorian is still by his side.”

Varric gave a slow grin. “Well now, that is good news. Sparkler was looking like a used dish mop when I saw him before all this happened. Glad he got his thumb out of his arse and Cullen back into it.”

Leliana actually giggled at that and Varric’s grin widened at that particular achievement. The Spymaster was a formidable woman but it was nice to know she could unbend a little. She took her leave of Varric then and made her way through the city to Solas’ shop. The elf looked surprised to see her but waved her upstairs anyway.

“I believe that Cullen at least is still awake,” he said. “He’s been complaining that all the sleep he’s been getting lately has thrown out his schedule. I confess he may be right. He’s been awake at odd hours.”

“That should sort itself out once he’s back on his feet,” Leliana said before she headed upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in,” said Cullen from inside and Leliana let herself in. Cullen was sitting up in the bed and had clearly been reading. He looked a little surprised to see her but waved her in anyway. Dorian was curled up asleep with his head pillowed on Cullen’s thigh. Leliana smiled a little to see that Cullen had clearly been carding his fingers through the sleeping man’s hair. Cullen looked well, if a little weary, and his usual affectation of a few days of scruff had grown into a short beard by now. 

“Sister Leliana,” Cullen said quietly as Leliana sat down next to the bed. “What brings you here at this hour?”

“I’ve come from a meeting with a few interested parties and one of them had something to pass onto you,” Leliana said. “I decided I should be the one to do this.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow and set his book aside. “Oh? Why is that?”

Leliana sighed. “We have kept a few things from you while you’ve been recovering.”

Cullen looked a little unimpressed at that admission. “What kind of things?”

“Varric received a note the morning after you were attacked,” Leliana said. “It was from Samson. He apologised, indicated that he was in trouble but that he didn’t want you to try and help him and said you were still in danger.”

“And there was an arbitrary decision made to keep this from me?” Cullen said. His voice was low so as not to wake Dorian but his tone was clearly annoyed.

Leliana held up one hand. “I know it was presumptuous of us but we were afraid you would jeopardise your recovery by…” She smiled wryly. “Well, by being you.”

Cullen looked annoyed for a moment more then he sighed and slumped back into the pillows. “I… fair enough. Well, go on. I’m presuming there’s more.”

“We know Samson has left the city,” Leliana continued. “He was seen riding out the day after you were attacked on a very fine horse.”

Cullen blinked. “He couldn’t afford a horse at all, let alone one like that. Not when he’s trying to get his hands on lyrium.”

“Precisely,” Leliana said, pleased that Cullen’s quick mind hadn’t suffered from the attack. “He clearly has a patron in the city and a wealthy one at that.”

“Noble?” Cullen asked.

“Most likely,” Leliana replied then Cullen surprised her.

“Duke Corypheus?” he said, his eyes narrow with thought. “He’s tied into the red lyrium somehow.”

“That’s my thought,” Leliana said. “Though proving it is going to be a challenge. I cannot bring any sort of accusations against a noble of his standing without solid proof.”

Cullen gestured to his position in the bed. “I’m not exactly in a position to help you right now.”

“That’s not exactly why I’m here,” Leliana said. She pulled the dirty envelope out of her pocket and handed it to Cullen. “Varric received this today.”

Cullen took the envelope and looked down at it. He recognised the writing on the front immediately and stiffened slightly. He stared the envelope a moment longer then sighed and tore it open. He pulled the letter out and opened it. He read it quickly then read it more slowly for a second time then he handed it to Leliana. She looked at the fixed expression on his face and read the letter for herself.

_Cullen,_

_I’m sorry. I know those words mean fucking shit right now but I mean them. I’m in a shit hole and there’s nothing you or I can do to get me out. So don’t even bother trying. Seriously. I know what your bleeding heart is like. This is too fucking big to be wasting your time on a screwed up shit heel like me. I’ll only do this again. The lyrium’s got its claws too fucking deep into me to get them out now._

_Look to the nobles, Cullen. That’s where this shit is centred. If I was a better man, I’d give you a name but we both know I’m not that man. Maybe I was once but those days are long gone. You let that pretty guard dog of yours look after you and you stay the fuck away from me. I mean it, Cullen._

_Samson_

_P.S. Fuck it. I’ll give you a name. The bitch has been on my back since this started so why shouldn’t I get on hers. Calpernia. There. That’s your name, Cullen. Start with her._

As Leliana watched, Cullen drew a shaking hand down his face then closed his eyes and dropped his hand down to rest on Dorian’s shoulder as though he could draw some comfort and strength from the sleeping man… whom Leliana was fairly sure was no longer sleeping. There was a stillness about him that Cullen hadn’t noticed but that she had. She placed the letter on the bed and wasn’t surprised when Dorian’s eyes opened and he picked up the letter to read it. He made no further movement even as anger flared across his face as he read Samson’s words.

“Are you angry about what he said or that he called you my pretty guard dog?” Cullen asked, proving he was well aware of what was happening around him. He opened his eyes and looked down at Dorian.

The courtesan rolled onto his back, his head still in Cullen’s lap, and tossed the letter aside as he reached up to brush his fingers along Cullen’s jawline. “Both, I think,” he said with a hint of airiness that didn’t match the expression on his face. “You are going to listen to him, aren’t you?”

Cullen sighed and slumped a little. “I know I should.”

“But?” Dorian said, arching an eyebrow.

“No, no buts.” Cullen shook his head wearily. “He’s too far gone. I should have known that but I… he was a friend before anything else. One of the few who didn’t care that I was a prince or put unattainable expectations on me for the same reason. I was forced to give up on him once, I just… didn’t want to have to do it again.”

Dorian shifted and sat up so that he could lean into Cullen’s side. “We don’t have to give up on him entirely. If it’s possible to help him…”

Cullen grimaced. “I…”

“Dorian is correct,” Leliana said soothingly. “I cannot in good conscience recommend any course of action that will endanger the Queen, yourself or the Crown Prince but if an opportunity to aid Samson arises, I can see no reason not to take it.” She paused and raised an eyebrow at him. “Though I can see many reasons to let him go his own way without our help.”

Cullen hesitated then he nodded, looking a little shame-faced. “I know there are a lot of reasons for not helping him but if it’s possible…”

Leliana nodded and patted the blanket where his shins were. “If it is possible.” She hesitated. “You are aware he may not be willing to accept our help.”

“I know,” Cullen said with a nod. “He seems hellbent on thinking the worst of himself.”

Dorian made a disapproving noise. “He nearly got you killed, Amatus. As far as I’m concerned he can think the worst of himself all he likes.”

Cullen smiled a little and leaned in to kiss Dorian. “I know, Dorian, but I just remember him when he was a good man.”

“Hmph,” Dorian said but he subsided and let Cullen wrap an arm around him.

Leliana watched this with a secretive smile. “I’ll start looking into this woman he mentioned.”

“Calpernia,” Dorian said sourly. “You know it can’t be her real name.”

“You recognise it?” Leliana asked.

Dorian nodded. “It’s Tevinter. There’s an old legend about a woman named Calpurnia who was a priestess of Dumat and the foster-mother of Darinius, who founded the Imperium.”

“You think she’s taken the name for the associations?” Leliana asked curiously.

“It’s possible it could be her real name,” Dorian said dubiously. “But people mostly like to avoid any significant reminders of the Old Gods.”

Leliana hummed thoughtfully under her breath. “If it is an assumed name then it raises some very interesting questions. The chief of which is why choose a Tevinter name?”

“As far as I’m aware Krem and I are the only Tevinters in Haven,” Dorian said. “But if this Elder One has been dealing with slavers then they may have purchased a Tevinter slave.”

“For what purpose?” Leliana asked.

“Not everyone keeps their slaves ignorant,” Dorian explained. “Many are educated and act as scribes and even more. Especially those who belong to scholars.”

Cullen had been looking increasingly sour at this discussion of slaves so Leliana decided to wrap things up. 

“I’ll see what I can find,” she said as he got to her feet. “I’ll leave you gentlemen to get some sleep.” She eyed Cullen with a calculated eye. “And we’ll start making some plans for getting you back to the Stronghold when Solas says you can get up. I think we’ll want to keep you out of sight in order to maintain the story of you being ill. That late summer cold tends to take a few weeks to get over.”

Cullen shifted and winced a little. “The deep healing is going to take time anyway, even after I can stand up without wanting to fall over after five minutes, so that probably won’t be too difficult.” He rolled his eyes. “It’s going to drive me mad though.”

“I’m sure I can find a way to distract you,” Dorian said with a coy curl of a smile.

Cullen grinned and blushed. “I’m not sure Solas would approve.”

“Solas disapproves of far too many things,” Dorian said with a sniff.

Leliana chuckled. “Well, I’ll leave you boys to figure this out.”

Cullen and Dorian watched her go then as the door closed, Cullen pulled Dorian into his embrace and kissed him. Dorian shifted so that he was straddling Cullen’s good leg, being careful to avoid his wounded leg.

“You’re very distracting,” he murmured against Dorian’s lips.

“I do my best,” Dorian replied before closing the minute gap between them and kissing Cullen as deeply as he dared. 

He wanted to do more than kiss Cullen. He wanted to strip the man bare and remove every last trace of Samson from him. He wanted to make sure that Cullen would never look at Samson again. The sheer jealousy he felt at the thought of Cullen with Samson, with _anyone_ other than him, unsettled him and yet… Cullen didn’t seem to mind. Every time Dorian showed even the slightest hint of that jealousy, Cullen would blush and smile coyly. He suspected if he ever truly tried to act on that jealousy Cullen would rein him in but he clearly liked the display of it and… and Dorian was willing to give it to him as long as Cullen didn’t try and torment him with other men or women. He didn’t think he would. He was too decent a man to do that. Dorian thought that Cullen was just enjoying someone feeling that way about him.

Cullen moaned into the kiss and pulled Dorian closer, his hand sliding under Dorian’s shirt and up the bare skin of his back then sliding down to rest on his side. Dorian reluctantly pulled away from the kiss and covered Cullen’s hand through his shirt with his own hand.

“We have to stop,” he said, returning to the kiss and catching Cullen’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging on it gently.

“Uhuh,” Cullen said, sliding his hand out from under Dorian’s and running it up his chest. He was still in enough discomfort that arousal was slow and he knew he might not be able to get hard but Dorian could and that thought was more than enough to keep him going.

“Ngh, Cullen,” Dorian breathed as Cullen’s fingers brushed over his nipples then returned to toy with them. He dropped his forehead into Cullen’s shoulder and desperately tried get hold of his control.

Cullen chuckled. “Turn around,” he murmured into Dorian’s ear then encouraged the other man to move until Dorian was settled between his legs and resting back against his chest. He ran his hands up Dorian’s chest underneath his shirt and brushed gentle caresses over his chest and stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said as he encouraged Dorian to remove his shirt. 

He sighed with contentment as Dorian settled back against him and he could touch the man’s skin unhindered by any clothing. He went back to pinching and playing with Dorian’s nipples with one hand and slid the other one down his stomach and into Dorian’s breeches until he found his warm, half-hard cock. He wrapped his hand around it and gave a long slow stroke. Dorian arched back against him with a low cry of pleasure and Cullen mouthed at the skin of his lover’s neck. He might have continued but the sound of someone clearing their throat in a very unimpressed manner came from the doorway. Both Cullen and Dorian froze and Cullen raised his head from the delectable skin of Dorian’s neck and looked over to find Solas standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, looking _very_ unimpressed. Cullen blushed and carefully removed his hand from Dorian’s breeches, his lips quirking into a tiny smirk when Dorian whined at that even though the courtesan’s cheeks were stained a very fetching shade of pink.

“Prince Cullen,” Solas said firmly. “You are in no condition to be doing anything strenuous.”

Cullen’s smirk bloomed into full life even though he was still blushing. “I wasn’t actually planning on doing anything strenuous. It was more what I was planning on doing to Dorian.”

Cullen felt Dorian jerk against him and heard the thin whine that admission gained him. Solas, if anything, looked even more unimpressed.

“Which you will not be doing in my bed,” the elven mage said dryly. “Patience is a virtue I suggest you acquaint yourselves with. I will give you ten minutes to compose yourselves then I wish to examine your wounds.”

Solas turned and walked out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Cullen buried his face in the crook of Dorian’s neck and chuckled. 

“I feel like I’ve been caught by my father.”

“It has that distinct feel about it,” Dorian said. 

His voice sounded slightly strained and Cullen realised that Dorian was still hard from his earlier ministrations. He glanced over at the door then made a swift decision. He wrapped one arm around Dorian’s chest then slid his hand back into Dorian’s breeches and took hold of his cock again. He started to stroke him firmly and with great intent and as he did so, he latched onto the skin in the crook of Dorian’s neck and kissed and sucked and worried at it until he knew he was going to leave a mark. Dorian arched back into him sharply and Cullen shifted just enough to keep the wound in his side from any accidental contact. He continued to kiss and suck at the mark he’d made on Dorian’s neck as he quickened his strokes on the other man’s cock.

“Come for me,” he breathed into Dorian’s ear and he was delighted when the other man gave a strangled cry and spilled over his hand.

He gently stroked Dorian through the aftershocks of his orgasm then withdrew his hand. He raised it to stare at the fluid smeared all over it but before he could do anything, Dorian took hold of his wrist and pulled his hand to his mouth. Cullen groaned and dropped his forehead to Dorian’s neck as the courtesan licked his own spend off Cullen’s hand.

“Maker, Dorian,” he said. “You’re going to kill me one of these days.”

“I would say that right back to you,” Dorian said, leaning back into Cullen’s embrace with a smile. “But it seems in poor taste given recent events. You do realise Solas is going to know we disobeyed and he’s going to very put out.”

“Solas can deal with it,” Cullen said, mouthing at the purpling mark on Dorian’s neck. “I didn’t put any extra stress on my wounds and we both needed that.”

“But what about you?” Dorian said, trying to twist around in Cullen’s embrace.

Cullen stopped him and caressed his chest and stomach soothingly. “I’m fine.” He was half hard from watching Dorian come and he knew that given a little encouragement, especially from Dorian, he could easily come as well but… Solas was right. It wouldn’t be good for his mostly healed wounds. “I can wait.”

It took Dorian a few more minutes to recover but by the time Solas returned, he had put his shirt back on and changed his breeches. Nevertheless Solas took one look at both of them then glared at Dorian and pointed towards the main room.

“Out,” was all he said.

Dorian skipped out of the room with a smothered mischievous smile and Cullen patiently waited for whatever Solas intended to say. The elf was silent at first as he gently removed the bandages and examined the wounds.

“What were you thinking?” Solas finally said, shooting a frown up at the prince.

“That he needed that and so did I,” Cullen replied. The look he gave the elf was calm and determined despite the way he was blushing. “I didn’t do anything to strain my wounds. I wouldn’t do that. I’ve been hurt before and I know better than to set my recovery back in that way. But… we needed that.”

Solas gave him an exasperated look then shook his head. “In my bed?”

Cullen smirked. “As if you’ve never done anything like that.”

The look Solas shot him this time was full of very restrained mirth and Cullen realised that he’d hit the nail right on the head.

“I trust you don’t intend to allow Dorian to reciprocate,” Solas said reprovingly.

Cullen no longer felt that reproof after his realisation and he shook his head. “Not until I can stretch up and not feel like I might tear something inside.”

“The wounds are almost healed so that may be in the next few days,” Solas said. “In fact they are healed enough that I am willing to leave the bandages off. You can get up tomorrow and stay up for the day and once we see how you handle that, we can make some decisions regarding your return to the Stronghold.”

“I guess you’ll be glad to have your apartment back,” Cullen said wryly.

“It has been a long time since I have had such consistent company,” Solas conceded. “It has not been unpleasant though I might have wished for different circumstances.”

“You and me both,” Cullen said with a soft chuckle.

Solas gathered up the bandages and got to his feet. “Get some sleep, Cullen.” He arched an eyebrow. “And I do mean _sleep_.”

Cullen reorganised the pillows then slowly eased himself down the bed until he was lying flat. He’d just done that when Dorian slipped back into the room.

“I haven’t been glared at like that since I broke my mother’s favourite vase when I was eight,” Dorian said with a quick grin. He slipped into the bed and curled up next to Cullen, sighing when the other man wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“How did you break your mother’s vase?” Cullen asked, watching as Dorian gave a wave of his hand that extinguished the candles in the room. He sighed into the darkness and closed his eyes.

“I was trying to cast a lightning spell,” Dorian said with a chuckle. “It didn’t work but I did end up throwing around enough magic to break the vase.”

Cullen laughed. “I forget sometimes that you’re a mage.”

“I’ll have to remind you more often, Amatus.”

Cullen hummed and felt himself relaxing towards sleep. “One day you’re going to have to tell me what that means.”

He felt Dorian draw in a breath then let it out again slowly. “Perhaps I will. Now go to sleep.”

“Hmmm,” Cullen said as for once sleep crept over him easily.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen returns to the Stronghold and Dorian has a facepalm moment.

The day Cullen was allowed to return to the Stronghold was, in his eyes, one of the best since he’d been in Skyhold. Not that it was actually daytime when he returned. All concerned had felt it would be wiser for him to travel under the cover of darkness and he was aware that Varric and Sera’s people were ranging around them to deflect and distract anyone who might be nearby. Cullen himself walked back with Dorian hovering close by on one side and Cassandra walking calmly on the other with his sword. He would much rather have worn his sword but he was feeling just well enough to want that but just shaky enough to know it was a bad idea. In fact, by the time they slipped in through a side entrance of the Stronghold, Cullen was sincerely glad he didn’t need to keep walking for too much longer. His wounds weren’t really hurting but the fatigue from extensive blood loss was certainly making itself known. When they arrived back in his rooms, he collapsed on the couch with a sigh of relief.

“Everything okay?” Dorian asked, crouching in front of him, a hand on each knee.

Cullen nodded. “Just tired.” He smiled at Dorian’s worry. “It’ll pass with a few more days of rest and some more good meals.”

Cassandra had gone into Cullen’s bedroom to place his sword in the weapons rack. “The Queen has arranged for a healer to look at you tomorrow,” she said when she returned to the main room. 

Cullen nodded. “I’m presuming this healer is going to tell everyone else I’m sick?”

Cassandra nodded. “Yes, she’s very reliable.”

“Thank you,” Cullen said.

Cassandra gave him a look of very restrained fondness. “Get some rest, Cullen. I have missed our sparring sessions.”

She left the room and Cullen leaned back on the couch with a sigh. He felt Dorian’s hands tighten on his knees and he dropped his hands down to cover them. “As much as I appreciate everything Solas has done, I am very glad to be back home,” he said with a sigh. He took Dorian’s hands in his then gave him a tug. “Come here.”

Dorian looked at him with confusion as he was pulled forward. “Cullen? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Cullen raised his head and continued tugging Dorian forward until he climbed into his lap. “You won’t. The wounds are healed. The only way I could damage them again now is if I actually tried some sparring with Cassandra or Blackwall.”

Dorian settled into Cullen’s lap gingerly then with more confidence when he saw no signs of pain or discomfort on the other man’s face. He smiled and cradled Cullen’s face with both hands. “Well, I rather like this position.”

“Good,” Cullen replied, his hands dropping down to Dorian’s hips. “I like having you here.”

Dorian leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Cullen’s. “I can’t stop thinking about what happened last time I was here.”

Cullen ran his thumb along Dorian’s cheek. “Dorian, you have to stop dwelling on it. Yes, you hurt me but you hurt yourself just as much. I trust that you know I’m not lying to you now, don’t you?”

Dorian nodded and swallowed hard. “Yes,” he whispered.

“That’s all I ask,” Cullen said. “I can’t wipe away what happened to you.” He paused then continued rather dryly, “Especially as you won’t tell who this man is.”

“No,” Dorian said firmly then he paused and sighed. “The Guild dealt with him anyway.”

“Huh. Good,” Cullen replied. “I can’t change what happened to you and how much it hurt you but I swear to you, I will not lie to you about how I feel.”

“I know,” Dorian said with a rather shaky smile. “I think I knew it then. I was just too afraid to admit it.”

Cullen sighed. “Samson must have seen it as a Maker sent opportunity. He got me alone.”

Dorian winced. “Yes, that’s my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” Cullen said firmly. “I’m the one who didn’t tell anyone where he was going. I was feeling sorry for myself and I was stupid. I should have known better than to trust Samson.”

“But if I’d been here…” Dorian shook his head.

“Things would have been different, yes, but the attack would still have happened somehow,” Cullen said. “Only if they were expecting two of us there would have been more men and maybe Sera wouldn’t have been there to save the day.”

“You’re saying things happened the way they should have?” Dorian said incredulously.

“I’m saying it was bad but things could have gone a lot worse,” Cullen replied.

“You are a ridiculously impossible man to be able to find a bright spot out of what happened,” Dorian said with disbelief.

Cullen chuckled. “I survived the Blight and the mess in Kirkwall. This was almost a walk in the park in comparison.” He saw the look on Dorian’s face and sobered. “I survived, Dorian. That’s what’s important. That’s what the Blight and Kirkwall taught me. You survive and then you pick up the pieces afterwards and move on. You can’t keep looking back at what might have happened and what could have happened. You’ll drive yourself mad doing that. What happened, happened. It can’t be changed. So now we pick up the pieces and move on.”

“That’s easier said than done,” Dorian said, settling down against Cullen and sighing with contentment when Cullen wrapped him up in an embrace.

“I know,” Cullen said. He pressed a kiss to Dorian’s temple. “I should warn you that I’m likely to have nightmares and not just about what happened.”

Dorian was rendered speechless for a moment then he raised his head to look Cullen in the eyes. “You… want me to stay?”

Cullen blushed a little and a hint of uncertainty flooded across his face. “I… yes? I mean… after you stayed… You, uh, don’t have to…”

“No!” Dorian all but yelled. He continued in a softer tone. “I want to stay.”

“I know it’s different here, at the Stronghold, and I’m making assumptions,” Cullen continued hesitantly.

Dorian pressed a finger to his lips to silence him and smiled tremulously. However his voice when he spoke was firm. “I want to stay.” His smile gained an edge of mischief and warmth. “I can think of many ways in which you can assume with me.”

Cullen’s slow smile was brilliant and his blush deepened. “Um, you might have to hold that thought. I’m… exhausted actually.”

Dorian chuckled. “I’m not an insatiable beast who must be assuaged with sex at all hours you know.” This time his smile was pure mischief. “Well, I _am_ but I’ll wait until you’re better to show you that side of me.”

Cullen let his head fall back against the couch as he laughed uproariously. It was a ridiculous laugh and Dorian thumped him on the chest in appalled protest even as it drew him helplessly into laughter as well. You couldn’t do much else but laugh along with Cullen when he was like this.

Cullen sobered and wiped the tears from his eyes. He smiled sweetly up at Dorian. “I love you.”

Dorian could do little more than blush. Even if he still felt some apprehension at the words, he couldn’t deny the look in Cullen’s eyes. That honesty and love was impossible to fake and it made him melt and wish that he had the courage to say the words back. If he was honest with himself, he still wasn’t entirely sure if he loved Cullen. He thought he did. This was certainly what it had felt like last time but last time had ended so horribly that it had made him doubt himself when it came to love. It wasn’t like he’d had much experience back in Tevinter. His parents had loathed each other and while he had seen examples of couples in love, they had been few and far between. It was why he’d fallen so hard the first time and why it had hurt so much. 

Rilienus had seemed like a dream come true, someone Tevinter had told him could not exist, but when he compared what he’d had with Rilienus then to what he had with Cullen now… there was just no comparison. When he looked back at that relationship now, even more so than before Cullen, he could see how badly he’d misread things, how inexperienced he’d been when it came to his and their emotions and how Rilienus had used that to his advantage. Had used _him_. But he saw none of that with Cullen and it… scared him, for lack of a better word. Because he could so easily fall in love with Cullen, if he wasn’t already, and this time… oh, this time it would be for real. It would mean _everything_. And that gave Cullen a power of him that _terrified_ him. But then, wouldn’t he also possess the same power over Cullen? Didn’t he already? Look at what he’d done to the man and to himself with his cruel and thoughtless words.

“Dorian?”

Cullen’s soft question and the hand cradling his cheek drew him out of his thoughts and he looked down at Cullen to find the prince smiling softly at him. He also saw the weariness etched into the man’s face that he was doing his best to hide. Though Cullen was physically all but recovered, mentally and emotionally he still had some way to go.

Dorian slipped gracefully off where he had been sitting on Cullen’s lap and held out his hand. “Come, Amatus. Time for bed.”

Cullen let himself be pulled to his feet and lead to the bedroom. He stripped off his clothes and climbed into the large soft bed with a sigh of relief then watched as Dorian undressed with an unconscious grace that would have been arousing if he wasn’t so tired. It was only after Dorian had doused the light and climbed into the bed and curled up in his arms that Cullen thought to ask the question that had arisen in his mind.

“What does that word mean? A… amatus?”

He felt Dorian go very still in his embrace and he for a brief, heart-stopping moment whether he wondered whether there was going to be a repeat of the last time they were together in this bed. Then Dorian relaxed again and snuggled closer, tucking his face into Cullen’s neck. 

“I… um…”

Cullen frowned. If anything, Dorian sounded bashful and nervous. “It’s not embarrassing, is it?” he asked.

“It means…” Dorian drew in a shaky breath then his eyes widened. How many times _had_ he called Cullen that without even realising it, without even _thinking_ about it? It was more than once because this wasn’t the first time Cullen had asked that question. He suddenly wanted to laugh with relief. It seemed his subconscious knew far better than he did how he felt. “It means beloved,” he said shyly.

He heard Cullen draw in a breath then he was being kissed fervently. Dorian wrapped an arm around Cullen’s neck and returned the kiss just as fiercely then he slowly gentled it.

“As much as I would very much like to follow through on that,” he said. “I think you need to rest.”

Cullen chuckled ruefully in acknowledgement. “I know.”

They settled down again and this time when Dorian fell asleep he did so with a contentment that he’d rarely felt before. He knew it wasn’t going to last - there was too much on the horizon for that - but he intended to enjoy it while he could.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Cullen can't come to the Council, the Council comes to him. Information is exchanged and plans are made.

The next morning they were lounging on a couch in Cullen’s rooms with the prince lazily lying half on top of Dorian, his face smushed into Dorian’s chest, as Dorian read aloud from the advance copy of the latest instalment of Swords & Shields that Varric had sent them. Cullen was laughing and groaning at the awful prose while Dorian was grinning and reading it in as melodramatic fashion as he could. Cullen had just scrunched up his face in horror at Varric’s latest euphemism and buried it in Dorian’s chest, his arm sliding under and around the other man, when there was a perfunctory knock on the door and Evelyn burst into the room.

“Cullen! I’m so glad… ooooh!” She grinned and clapped her hand over her mouth to smother a giggle at the sight in front of her before letting her hand drop again “Ooops! Have I interrupted something?”

Cullen blushed and would have sat up but Dorian would only allow him to turn over. He did manage to override Dorian’s amused “Yes” with a more tempered, “Um… only the latest monstrosity of Varric’s.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened as she plunked herself down on the other couch. “Is that the latest Swords & Shields? Maker, you’d better hide that from Cassandra before she gets here.”

Dorian looked appalled. “You don’t mean to say she actually _likes_ this drivel?”

“She _adores_ it,” Evelyn replied. “You should have seen her the other day when Varric came by to drop off some information to Leliana. She was blushing and stammering like a school girl.”

Cullen’s jaw dropped a little, unable to really imagine the steely Champion acting like that. Dorian, on the other hand, was snickering.

“How did Varric react?” Dorian asked.

“At first he treated it like a joke,” Evelyn replied. “But then Cassandra got all embarrassed and hurt and he realised she’d meant what she’d said and then it all got a little awkward until Varric asked her to join him at the Hanged Man and maybe read some of the new stuff he was working on.”

Dorian’s eyes widened and he set the copy of Sword & Shields aside as he stared at the Queen in disbelief. “Excuse me? Are you telling me that Varric asked Cassandra out on a… date?”

Evelyn shrugged. “It sure sounded that way to me.”

Dorian blinked. “To be honest, if the Maker appeared before me right now I’d be less surprised than I am to hear that.”

“Why?” Cullen asked, shifting so that he could rest his head on Dorian’s shoulder.

“Bianca,” Dorian replied.

“Who’s Bianca?” Evelyn and Cullen asked almost in unison. They looked at each other and snorted in amusement.

“Well, if you ask him, Bianca is his crossbow and he’s a one crossbow dwarf,” Dorian said. “But I’ve spoken to him when he’s deep in his cups and I get the feeling she’s a real person and he has those ‘I love you but I hate you’ feelings towards her.” He shook his head. “He’s never shown interest in _anyone_ since I’ve known him, let alone asked them to the Hanged Man to read his work.”

Cullen twisted a little and frowned up at Dorian. “Is that some sort of euphemism I don’t know about?”

Dorian snorted with laughter while Evelyn giggled. “No, Amatus, it’s not. I meant that quite literally. Varric never lets anyone read his unpublished work except for his editor.” He gestured to the book. “Well, except for this but even that’s not really unpublished. It’s just an advance copy.”

“Oooh,” Evelyn said with a gleeful grin then abruptly sobered. “Don’t tease her about this, will you? For all that she likes romance, I don’t think she’s very adept at it and I think if we tease her too much, she’ll back out of this.”

“My lips are sealed,” Dorian said, holding up one hand. 

As Cullen nodded his agreement, the door opened again and Blackwall, Josephine and Leliana walked in with the woman in question right behind them. Cullen, Evelyn and Dorian exchanged amused glances then sobered as the others sat down.

“We thought it would be best to hold our Council meetings here until you’re officially well again,” Josephine said.

“Oh,” Dorian said, looking uncertain as shifting a little in preparation to get up. Cullen looked disgruntled and concerned as he grabbed at Dorian’s hand. “Do you want me to leave?”

“Certainly not,” Blackwall grunted as he sat down next to Evelyn. “You’re going to be neck deep in this since you’re with Cullen. You should damn well know what’s going on.”

Evelyn nodded. “He’s right. You need to know about all of this.”

Dorian shifted back hesitantly and Cullen sealed the matter by settling himself very firmly against Dorian’s chest in his loose embrace. There was a sense of amusement in the room at his actions but no one actually commented on them.

“I have some news,” Leliana said without preamble. “The information Samson sent Cullen has born some fruit. My people have found Calpernia.”

“Where?” Evelyn said, leaning forward intently.

“She is staying at an old estate that belongs to Duke Corypheus,” Leliana replied. “The one he bought when Mount Hylan was opened but he apparently abandoned when most of that part of the city had to be closed off after the cave-ins.”

“Ah yes,” Evelyn said thoughtfully. “I remember Dagna telling me that she could never find the reason for those cave-ins.”

“Yes,” Leliana said. “The estate Corypheus purchased was one of the few that was left entirely untouched. Everyone else who’d bought in there sold up - to Corypheus I have subsequently found - and left.” Her eyes narrowed. “I went back through the Council and court documents. Guess who suggested that the area be abandoned until it could be made safe?”

“Duke Corypheus,” Blackwall said dryly.

“Got it in one,” Leliana said. “Calpernia was seen entering and exiting the building several times and it seems that the Duke has had an access way carved into the mountain that leads down to the southern high road. That’s how the slavers are getting into the city since we increased patrols. And Solas was correct. The slavers are not purchasing slaves here, they’re selling them and making more than enough to justify the empty return trip.”

“They’re probably picking up people on the way back,” Dorian said sourly. “It costs them only the time and effort taken to chase them down and if they’re making good money from Calpernia, that wouldn’t be a hardship.”

Leliana nodded. “I will pass that onto the appropriate authorities in Orlais and Fereldan. Neither country likes slavers and if they can make it unprofitable to traverse their lands, that will certainly help. Continuing on, none of my people have yet been able to infiltrate the estate and find out what Calpernia is doing but they are continuing to look for a way. What they have been able to tell me is that none of the slaves that are taken into the estate ever come back out. Only Calpernia and the guards exit the building.”

“Because that’s not at all ominous,” Cullen muttered. “What about the Duke? Has he been seen going there?”

“No,” Leliana said with a nod of approval. “He seems to stay well clear of the place but my people followed Calpernia one evening when she went to the Duke’s official residence. So we can confirm the link between them.”

“How are your people going to try and get inside?” Cassandra asked.

“They have identified a series of windows in the upper levels of the estate that they believe they can enter,” Leliana replied. “They will wait until the next time Calpernia leaves and try and make an entrance. The guards noticeably relax when she leaves and often come and mill around outside.” She paused and grimaced a little. “Solas’ friend Sera has poked around as well. She has also identified the entrances we have and seems determined to get inside herself. She had many obscene and often incomprehensible things to say once we saw the slavers. I have told my people to give her free rein, mostly because I believe it would be impossible to stop her.”

There was some general low level amusement at that then Leliana continued.

“My people have also confirmed that Samson is in Orlais,” she said. “They traced him to the inn where he sent that letter from and they’re following him as we speak. He seems to be searching for Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. We sent some people to warn the Grand Duke but it seems he is well aware of Samson’s presence. He is doing what he can to avoid any meeting. It seems he believes that Samson represents someone who wishes to gain his allegiance for something wider than the current dispute in Orlais and the Grand Duke isn’t particularly interested, largely because the envoy in question is Samson. I believe that it Corypheus wishes to gain an audience with the potential Emperor of Orlais, he’s going to have to send someone a little higher in rank than an ex-Templar.” She paused and arched an eyebrow. “My people tell me that Samson does not seem terribly put out by the snub and appears to be taking the opportunity to stay out of Skyhold, probably until he is officially recalled by Corypheus.”

Cullen shifted uncomfortably at that and his expression darkened until Dorian murmured something in his ear and ran a hand through his hair. Cullen gave a soft huff of laughter and relaxed again.

“Do you think the Duke will try and attack me again?” Cullen asked.

Leliana nodded, something that was echoed by the others in the room. “Undoubtedly,” the Spymaster said. “If what you heard is correct and I have no reason to doubt that it is, he needs you out of the way in order to get to the Queen.”

“Ugh, as if I’d marry Corypheus,” Evelyn said with a shudder.

“It wouldn’t be him,” Cassandra said bluntly. “He would have some young nobleman lined up here or in Orlais who would be completely unobjectionable, then once you were married, you would be the next one to mysteriously die, leaving your grieving spouse as the obvious choice as Regent.”

“Hardly obvious,” Evelyn objected though there was an element of hesitancy in her voice.

“Who else?” Cassandra replied. “Your parents are dead and you have no siblings. You have never acknowledged the father of your child…” There were a number of surreptitious glances at Blackwall who looked imperturbable. “… thus your husband would be the logical choice.”

Evelyn scowled. “Is there any way to circumvent that?”

“You could make a legal pronouncement about who would become Regent in the event of your death but if it was not a noble, you would face a great many objections,” Josephine said. “And it would have to be a public announcement so there would be no way of avoiding those objections.”

Evelyn leaned back and looked up at Cassandra. “You’d protect my child, wouldn’t you, Cass?”

Cassandra looked uncomfortable for a moment. “Your Majesty…” She hesitated and cleared her throat. “You forget that in the event of your death, I am no longer Champion, especially not to your son.”

Eyes widened around the room and Cullen cursed under his breath.

“So if the Duke kills Evelyn, he essentially gets rid of two problems with one blow,” he said, anger lacing his voice.

Cassandra made a disgusted noise. “I would hardly go so quietly.”

Cullen smirked. “I didn’t think you would but I know nobles. Without your official title, there are a lot of nobles who wouldn’t give you the time of day and even actively get in your way.”

Cassandra snorted. “I would like to see them try.”

“So are we going to try and avoid an attack or act as bait?” Dorian asked after the amusement generated by Cassandra’s response had died down.

“Well, we were going to talk to both of you about that,” Evelyn said.

“It wasn’t something we thought we should make decisions about without you,” Blackwall said dryly. 

“They’re not going to underestimate me next time,” Cullen warned. 

“We know,” Cassandra said. “Blackwall and I would like to increase your training once you’re well enough. You’re trained as a soldier, we want to add a bit of training to deal with the assassin in the arras.”

Cullen grimaced. “Since I can’t exactly walk around in full armour all the time, I think it’s an excellent idea.”

“There is also the consideration that the longer it takes the Duke to kill you, the more he has to delay his plans and thus the more time we get to discover them and bring him down,” Leliana said.

“Well, that was grim,” Evelyn said with a frown.

Leliana held up a hand. “I was not trying to diminish the Prince Consort but it is nonetheless the truth.”

“It’s alright, Evelyn,” Cullen said. “I was about to say the same thing myself. To be honest, acting as bait is really the best thing I could do. My only other option would be to either stay here until this is all over, in which case I’d probably go stark raving mad, or go somewhere else, like Fereldan or Orlais. In either case, I’d still be vulnerable to assassins. Getting out there and playing the bait is something we can use.” He glanced over at Leliana. “Especially if anyone you’re going to have shadowing me is very subtle. If it looks like I’m not taking the attack seriously, Corypheus might get overconfident.”

“I don’t like it,” Dorian said slowly. “But I can certainly help Cullen act careless.” He hesitated. “And I can speak to Madame de Fer. She may be willing to offer the help of our guards. Bull has collected an odd bunch and a lot of them are very used to clandestine work.”

“Would she do that?” Cassandra asked, looking dubious.

“If I make it plain I don’t intend to leave Cullen’s side, she probably will,” Dorian said. “Come to think of it, we could even use someone like Bull. He’s very good at playing the exasperated guard who doesn’t give a damn about his charge while still watching closely. He also plays the drunkard well.” He smiled a little. “He’s also a friend.”

“Bull’s the huge Qunari, isn’t he?” Cullen asked.

Dorian nodded. “He’s quite capable of making himself look like a fat drunken slob if it’s required.” He smiled at Leliana. “You’ll probably want to recruit him once you meet him.”

“It does sound that way,” Leliana said. She looked over at the Queen and gave a nod.

“Alright, contact Madame Vivienne,” Evelyn said. “And if you need some sort of official contract or something, let Josephine know and we’ll get it organised.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” Dorian said.

“Evelyn,” the Queen said firmly.

“I’m sorry?” Dorian said, looking a little startled.

“Evelyn,” she said with a little grin. “It’s my name. You can use it. You’re Cullen’s lover so it only makes sense.”

Dorian blinked and for a moment he was at a loss for words as much as because he’d been called Cullen’s _lover_ and not referred to as his courtesan as because he’d been given permission to call the Queen of Haven by her name. There hadn’t been any discussion about the future or where things would go with Cullen, whether a permanent contract would be negotiated or whether Dorian might retire and take up a position here at court. It was, of course, far too early for any of that but Dorian couldn’t help but blush a little at being given a closeness with Cullen that Evelyn clearly felt for Blackwall.

“I… of course, Evelyn,” he said, the name feeling a little odd in his mouth.

Evelyn gave him an impish grin that almost demanded he returned it… so he did. It was quite something to be drawn into such high level politicking but he was glad now that he had been included. Blackwall had been right. This was deep and murky enough that they all needed all the information they could possibly get.

“I think we can go no further on this until Dorian hears from Madame Vivienne and we get more information, yes?” Josephine said. When everyone nodded, she ticked off a point on her board. “Very well. Shall we move on to the next matter?”

Everyone settled themselves more comfortably as Josephine brought up the next item of business.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harding discovers the horror that is Calpernia's work area. She also frees some slaves so it's not all bad.
> 
> Warning: This chapter is a bit disturbing in places.

Lace Harding watched the doors of Duke Corypheus’ mansion in the Mount Hylan district and shifted into a slightly more comfortable position. There had been a little more movement than usual and she was expecting Calpernia to emerge and leave the mansion soon. There had been no discernible pattern to the woman’s departures and Harding had to reluctantly give her some credit. Most people tended to fall into patterns over time and that predictability was often their downfall but Calpernia never left on the same day or the same time. It made predicting her almost impossible.

The doors to the mansion opened and Harding let out a soft sigh of relief. They were finally going to get their chance to see what the woman was doing. Another load of slaves had arrived the previous day and it had absolutely galled Harding to just sit and watch them be taken inside and do nothing. Hopefully she’d be able to release them tonight. Technically it wasn’t in her orders but if she could do so without buggering things up completely, well… Sister Leliana would understand. She watched as Calpernia emerged from the mansion and the guards who had gathered outside formed up around her. They headed out from the mansion and Harding got the attention of her people, giving them the signal to wait and get ready. When a few guards wandered out and set themselves up with a makeshift table and chairs, a deck of cards and several bottles of ale, Harding gave the signal to move.

Getting into the mansion proved to be easier than expected and it set Harding on edge. If this was Corpyheus’ base of operations for whatever he had planned then there should be more security. That uneasiness didn’t stop her or any of the others though. They all had their set locations to search based on the plans they’d lifted from the architects who had designed the place. Harding’s section was the basements. She’d kept them for herself. Calpernia looked like the lurking in basements type and as the senior agent, she had wanted to shield her people from whatever might be down there.

She made her way through the shadows, hearing the faint sounds of her people moving purposefully through the house behind her. As she descended, the presence of people became more obvious and she was forced to slow her progress in case of guard patrols. When she reached the ground floor, she found only a single guard on patrol and he was clearly bored out of his mind, barely paying attention to anything he walked past, and just a tiny bit sullen. Harding made the assumption that no one ever came here except Calpernia and possibly Samson and this guard had drawn the short straw of remaining on guard while his compatriots were outside drinking and playing cards. She settled into her hiding spot and waited until he reappeared first once then a second time. When it looked like he was walking the same pattern, she waited for him to disappear again and slipped down to the door to the basement.

As she headed down the stairs, the air became cool and dank and she began to hear a strange humming sound in her head. She hesitated for a moment then continued down the stairs. If Prince Cullen’s reports were correct, this meant there was red lyrium here. She shivered and forced herself to remain calm and professional. She hadn’t been sure what the report of red lyrium singing had meant and now that she knew, she wished she didn’t. She edged her way into the basement, expecting to see at least one more guard but there was no one. The basement itself was of an unusual design and had been changed from the original plans. 

The stairs came down to something that was almost a foyer and there were three doors leading off it. She considered the doors and put them together with the general floor plan of the house and picked the middle door. She wasn’t surprised to find it locked but it was the work of only a minute or two to pick the lock and she entered the room beyond. It was a large single room, a work room of some description and the song of the red lyrium was louder in here. She looked around and shivered. Whatever was going on in here was bad news. She moved quickly from bench to bench, committing what she could to memory. She didn’t want to take anything that might be missed but when she got to the bench at the back of the room, she nearly recoiled. There was a small chest on the table and the red lyrium song was very loud. She screwed up her courage and gently lifted the lid of the chest. Inside the chest were a number of small vials that she recognised as the kind used by Templars for their lyrium. However the glow from these vials wasn’t blue, it was red. She stared at them for a moment then drew a short length of silk from her tunic. She plucked out one of the vials and wrapped it in the silk before tucking the package into her tunic. She didn’t know if the silk would really offer any protection but she wasn’t going to take any chances. She lowered the lid of the chest and headed out of the room.

She chose the left-most door next and found that it opened into a corridor lined with doors, five on each side. She crept down the corridor and grimaced when she realised that the small window in each door was too high for her to reach. She pulled out her lock picks and unlocked the door, opening it carefully just an inch. When she peered in, she was hard pressed not to scream. There was a man in the room, a Templar by his armour. He was standing in the middle of the room, seemingly lifeless and still, though how he could be dead and still standing upright was beyond her. She edged gingerly into the room and tiptoed over to the Templar. When she got close enough, she gasped. The song was loud near him and there were red lyrium crystals growing out from his chest and some had even pushed through the metal of his armour on his left shoulder.

“Andraste preserve us,” she breathed.

As though the noise had woken him, the Templar’s eyes snapped open. Harding stumbled backwards but the Templar didn’t move. He stared at her and she couldn’t be sure if he was seeing her or not. There seemed to be almost no life in his eyes and they glowed red. She swallowed hard and slowly got to her feet.

“Kill me,” the Templar whispered and Harding stopped in utter horror.

“Wh… what?” she said.

“Kill me,” the Templar whispered again. “She… she gave us the red. I can feel it inside me. Please. Kill me.”

Harding stared at him, her breath coming in pants. She licked her lips and thought hard. If she did what he asked, Calpernia would know someone had been here but if she didn’t… she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the man here to suffer and have the Maker only knew what happen to him. She hesitated for a moment longer then darted out of the door. She went back to the workroom and picked up one of the long fine needles she’d seen when she’d been in there just before. Just the sort of thing the Templar might have been able to get his hands on by accident. She hurried back to the cell and held it against the neck of the Templar. It was a good position, one that a soldier like the Templar would know would kill.

“Are you sure?” she whispered.

He gave the barest hint of a nod. “Kill me. Stop her. You have to… stop her. And him. The Elder One.” He closed his eyes. “Do it.”

“May the Maker take you to his side,” Harding whispered then she plunged the needle into the Templar’s neck.

The man gurgled as blood flowed from the wound. She let go of the needle and hurried out of the cell, locking it again in her wake. Let them think it a suicide. She prayed that they would but she would defend her actions to Sister Leliana if she had to. He headed down the corridor and a few well-timed leaps showed her that the other cells also held Templars in the same condition as the first. She left the corridor hurriedly and went to the last door. When she opened it, she found another corridor with doors opening off it. There were fewer doors this time, only four that she could see and these ones were more traditional barred doors. Behind the first door on the right, she found the slaves who had been brought in the previous night. They were mostly elven and young and they gasped when they saw her. She gestured them into silence and crouched down in front of the door.

“Can any of you understand me?” she whispered.

The oldest of them, a young man of about twenty nodded. “I can. Most of the rest only speak Tevene.”

“You’re from Tevinter?” Harding asked.

The young elf nodded. “Yes, all of us.”

“Do you know why you’re here?”

The elf shuddered and gestured towards the cell opposite. “For that, I presume.”

Harding turned around and had to exert all the self-control she possessed to stop from making any noise. There were elves in the cell opposite as well and like the Templar they had red lyrium crystals growing out of them but either they had been there longer or the process had occurred quicker. Many of them were seemingly embedded in large lumps of crystal and all of them were staring sightless at the floor or the wall.

“Maker,” Harding breathed. “What in Andraste’s name?”

She nearly squeaked when a hand grabbed her wrist and she turned to see the young elf looking at her with desperation, having grabbed at her through the bars. 

“The woman… she said we would be given the first dose tomorrow,” he said. “Please… please get us out.”

Harding glanced over her shoulder at the other elves and knew there was no other decision. She caught the young elf’s hand.

“Will they be quiet?” she demanded softly. “There’s only one guard upstairs inside the house but there are others outside.”

The elf nodded then they both froze when the door to the foyer area creaked. Harding dropped the elf’s hand and stood up, her knife in her hand. The door slowly opened then a head poked into the corridor and Harding relaxed.

“Shite,” Sera said, coming in. She saw the elves Harding had been talking to then she turned and saw what was in the other cell. “Fecking gobshite!”

“Shut up!” Harding hissed, sheathing her knife. “Do you want to bring the guard down here?”

“He’s sleeping,” Sera said with an ugly smirk. She very firmly turned her back on the grotesque red lyrium tableau and stared intently at the slaves. She glared at Harding. “We’re getting them out, yeah?”

“Yes,” Harding said with a roll of her eyes. “I was just working out how to do so.”

“There a back door,” Sera said, pulling her lock picks out. “My people are waiting there. We can take ‘em out that way.”

Harding nodded. Sera might be odd but from all reports, she could be trusted. She waited while Sera picked the lock then the young elf organised the others. Harding was grateful there were only a dozen. Anymore and things might have been difficult. She led the way up the stairs and found the lone guard slumped unconscious against the wall at the top. They ushered the elves out the door and then Sera took the lead. She led them through the house and into the kitchens where she opened the kitchen door. Instead of leading to a garden or anything else, it opened on a dark, dank passageway. The rather shifty looking woman was standing there, almost dancing from foot to foot.

“Got ‘em,” Sera said.

“Wait,” Harding said, catching Sera’s arm. “What were you planning on doing with them?”

“Getting ‘em out,” Sera hissed back. “My people’ll get ‘em out of Skyhold and into Fereldan and Orlais. Maybe the Free Marches.”

Harding nodded. “Good. Do it. I have to make sure my people are out.”

“Don’t get caught,” Sera said with a swift grin. “You’re too cute to get caught.”

Harding blinked then chuckled. Of all the places to be chatted up, sneaking out of some sort of horror house wasn’t one of them. She stepped back and waited for the slaves to be hurried out into the passage. She closed the door behind them and locked it then hurried out of the kitchen. She did a quick sweep and collected anyone who was still in the house then they left as quietly as they’d entered. Once they were clear of the district, she sent her people back to their headquarters to write up their reports but she went straight for the Stronghold. She knew she’d find Leliana still up, waiting to hear from her and she was proven correct. The Spymaster took one look at the young dwarf and pulled out a bottle of wine and two glasses. She poured an ample measure in both and handed it to Harding.

Harding waved it away and pulled the silk package out of her tunic. “I found this.”

Leliana took it and urged the wine on Harding. Now the dwarf took it and swallowed half of it in one gulp. Leliana unwrapped the package and drew back when she saw what it was. Then she grimaced and shook her head.

“I see what Cullen means,” she said with distaste. “Give me your report.”

Harding clutched at the glass of wine as she marshalled her thoughts then proceeded to give a clear and concise report of everything she’d see, heard and done, including her actions with the Templar.

Leliana sighed. “At least you made it look like a suicide.”

“I know I shouldn’t have…” Harding began.

Leliana waved her hand. “No, it’s alright. I likely would have done the same thing in your shoes.” She hummed under her breath. “Sera got the slaves out?”

Harding nodded. “She says she’ll get them out of the country and somewhere safe. I locked everything behind us but there’s going to be no getting around the fact that they’ve disappeared.”

“Let it be a mystery,” Leliana replied. “With any luck, it will prompt Duke Corypheus into some rash actions.” She gave Harding a sympathetic look. “Go home and get some sleep. Collate the reports from your people tomorrow morning and come and see me then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harding said, draining the last of her wine. She gave the Spymaster a sketchy salute and left the room.

Leliana watched her go then looked down at the small vial on her table. She shuddered again at the sound of the red lyrium then picked up the vial and locked it in her desk. She would call a Council meeting tomorrow and they would deal with this then. One thing she did know… Cullen was going to need very careful handling.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leliana reports on the previous night's events and more plans are made.

Leliana walked into Cullen’s rooms and found everyone waiting for her. As she got closer, she saw Cullen’s head shoot up and he stared at here with wide eyes.

“You’ve got…” he began before cutting himself off.

Leliana pulled the silk wrapped bundle out of her pocket and placed it on the law table that stood between them. She flipped the silk open to reveal the red glowing vial.

“Red lyrium,” Cullen said sourly, his expression pinched and bitter.

“Maker,” Dorian said with a grimace. “I see what you mean, Amatus. That is… very unsettling.”

“Where did you find it?” Cullen demanded. Leliana suspected he’d have been up and pacing the room if Dorian didn’t have a deceptively casual arm slung around him.

“One of my agents found it last night when they infiltrated Corypheus’ Hylan estate,” Leliana replied.

“What else did they find?” Evelyn asked. “You’ve got that look about you that says you’ve got bad news.”

“Slaves,” Leliana replied. “And… Templars.”

“ _Templars_?” Cullen said, trying to rise. Dorian’s arm tightened around him and Cullen subsided, though not without a glare at his lover. Dorian seemed to ignore it however.

Leliana nodded. “Harding found a group of slaves that had arrived only a couple of days ago and with Sera’s help, she was able to get them out. However, there were other slaves there and they, along with the Templars, had been exposed to the red lyrium in some way. Harding reported that the slaves and the Templars were… growing the red lyrium crystals out of their bodies.”

Everyone in the room now looked stunned or sick or both but Leliana noticed that Cullen’s stunned look was mixed with anger. She decided to keep going and get as much information out before Cullen’s temper snapped.

“The growth of the red lyrium seems slower in the Templars than the elven slaves,” she continued. “Harding reported that the slaves were embedded in great columns and shards of red lyrium but the Templars she saw were still intact. The one she got close to was still coherent but she thinks some of the others might not have been. She didn’t get a good look but she thinks the one she spoke to might have been the most recent… recruit.”

“What happened to him?” Cullen demanded.

Leliana paused. “Harding agreed to the Templar’s request and… killed him.”

This time Dorian couldn’t keep Cullen seated. The former Templar shoved Dorian aside rather unceremoniously and lurched to his feet. He paced back and forth, his shoulders and back stiff with anger. He glanced over at Leliana and ground his teeth for a moment.

“Thank her for me, will you?”

Leliana nodded as Dorian settled himself on the couch. He looked worried and a little tight-lipped and Leliana wondered if Cullen might have accidentally hurt him when he’d gotten up so wildly.

“Why is he doing this?” Cullen asked, his voice hollow.

“Harding wasn’t able to take any of Calpernia’s notes but she memorised what she could,” Leliana replied as soothingly as she dared. “Corypheus wants an army that is utterly obedient and very powerful. Apparently she’s achieved the first part but the second is proving difficult. The Templars are powerful in terms of raw strength but they have apparently lost their access to the abilities unique to Templars. The further the… infection goes, the more mindless they become.” 

She paused and raised an eyebrow at Dorian, Cassandra and Blackwall when Cullen wasn’t looking. They nodded back to her and shifted slightly where they were sitting.

“Harding also discovered what Corypheus intends for Samson,” Leliana said delicately. 

Cullen came to a halt and stared at her. “What?”

“Apparently Samson’s reactions to ordinary lyrium are different from the other Templars,” Leliana replied. “He’s more resistant to its deleterious effects, perhaps due to massive overexposure from his addiction. Corypheus believes that Samson will be more resistant to the red lyrium infection and intends to make him his general.”

Cullen stared at her, his face pale. Dorian hurriedly got up and came to stand beside him. He laid his hand on Cullen’s arm gently.

“Amatus? Come. Sit down.”

Cullen let Dorian lead him back to the couch and got him to sit down. When he had, Cullen buried his face in his hands.

“Do we know where Samson has gone?” Blackwall said briskly.

“My people are following him,” Leliana said. “Why?”

“Grab him,” Blackwall said. “Corypheus wants Samson as his general. Let’s deny him that.”

“Good idea,” Cassandra said with a nod.

“And if he declines?” Dorian asked.

“Knock him over the head and grab him anyway,” Blackwall said. “Given what we’ve just learned, I think the days of being nice to Samson just ended.”

A small inarticulate sound came from Cullen but he made no further protest.

“You think he knows what Corypheus intends for him?” Evelyn asked, one worried eye on Cullen.

Blackwall hesitated. “Huh. Good question. Based on what Cullen reported of their interactions, if he does, he’s a damn good actor.”

Evelyn looked at Cullen for a long moment then turned to Leliana. “Take him. But don’t bring him back here. We don’t want him in a place where Corypheus can easily get hold of him.”

Leliana nodded. “I know a place or two where he’ll be safe and well cared for.”

She placed an emphasis on that last bit and saw some of the tension in Cullen’s shoulders ease. She knew that the others were a bit baffled by Cullen’s continued adherence to a man who’d tried to have him killed but she understood. Cullen and Samson had been through the Blight together. The bonds of friendship that were forged in fire were very hard to toss away lightly. She knew that Cullen understood the danger Samson posed or he would have been protesting her decision right now. He wasn’t. He probably wanted to but he was a soldier and understood necessity.

“There is another matter we must consider,” Josephine said. “Next week’s ball.”

There was a general groan through the room and Cullen winced. He’d entirely forgotten about the ball. He’d received the notice about it a few weeks ago, before all of the recent events had driven it entirely from his mind. The ball was to celebrate the founding of Skyhold and he was expected to attend with Evelyn. It was, he expected, going to be stultifyingly boring. Not because of Evelyn but just because these sorts of events tended to be like that.

“Ah yes,” Leliana said dryly. “Josephine and I were talking about this the other day and given last night’s raid on Corypheus’ estate and our plans for Samson, I think we need to take this seriously. If Corypheus is going to act against you, Evelyn, that will be the night he does it.”

Cullen grunted. “True. Huge party, lots of people who aren’t normally there, more servers than usual. It’s the perfect conditions.”

“You’ll be a target as well,” Cassandra warned.

“I can have people there disguised as servants, Blackwall will have his guards there,” Leliana began.

“I will be there,” Dorian said sharply.

“Cullen needs to attend with Evelyn,” Leliana replied.

“That doesn’t preclude me being there and you know it,” Dorian said. “In fact, that makes it easier for me to keep watch.” He arched an eyebrow. “You did hire me for this.”

Leliana conceded with a smile. “We did. Very well. Dorian will be there.”

“And I’m not going to be able to wear my sword,” Cullen said with a heavy sigh.

“It doesn’t go with my outfit,” Evelyn said. “Sorry.”

Cullen snorted and looked faintly amused. “Can I at least have some sort of concealed knife on me?”

“Of course,” Josephine said in an effort to forestall any arguments. “I will speak to the tailor and have arrangements made. You have a fitting tomorrow.”

Cullen grimaced but didn’t protest. He knew the drill for events like this. He didn’t much like it but he knew it.

“Do you think he’ll try and hurt Evelyn?” he asked instead. “Wouldn’t that go against everything we’ve heard about his plans?”

“My current theory is that he’ll strike at you and at Aiden and as many of us as he can with the intent to kill,” Blackwall said. “In the ensuing chaos, whoever he has in mind as Evelyn’s new husband will come forward and be ever-so-helpful to her and thus position himself perfectly for the nobles to back when they start demanding a new heir and thus a new husband.”

Cullen stilled. He’d met the Crown Prince only a few times. Aiden was only eight and spent most of his time with his nanny and his tutors. He’d been terribly polite when he’d met Cullen but had very quickly broken ranks and asked a thousand yearning questions about mabari until Cullen had made the mental note to see if he could get a pup for the boy. After speaking to Evelyn about it, of course. He made a mental note to do that at some point soon. The royal mabari kennels should have litters soon enough so it would be a good time to organise it.

“You think Aiden and I will be the primary targets?” he said slowly.

Blackwall nodded. “It makes sense. If I could, I’d pull both of you from the ball but there’s no way I could do that without raising a thousand questions we wouldn’t be able to answer. So there’s going to be protection around the two of you and I’ll ask you kindly not to try and evade that protection.”

Cullen’s hand went unconsciously to the healed wound in his side and he grimaced. “I won’t.”

“Thank you,” Blackwall said with a nod. “If anything happens, they’ll get you out of the way and I want you to go with them. I know you’re a formidable fighter but the point is to stymie Corypheus’ plans and we can only do that if you’re still alive.”

“I know!” Cullen said with some exasperation then he sighed and held up a hand. “Sorry. I just…”

“Hate not having command of a situation?” Blackwall said with rough sympathy. “I do understand but my priority is to keep you alive.”

Cullen sighed. “I know. After the Blight I should be used to being helpless in a combat situation but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.”

“No soldier ever does,” Blackwall replied.

“Cullen…” Evelyn began and then she bit her lip. “If something does happen, would you… would it be too much to ask you to make sure Aiden is safe? I know he’s not yours and you barely know him but it’d mean a great deal to me to know he’s safe.”

“Yes,” Cullen said, breaking into Evelyn’s babble. 

She stared at him for a moment as his reply sank in. “Oh! Um, thank you.”

“I know I don’t know him well but I do like him.” Cullen smiled ruefully. “I was thinking of getting him a puppy. He asked me a lot about Mabari.”

Evelyn looked dubious. “A puppy.”

“A _Mabari_ puppy,” Cullen corrected her. “They’re different.”

“Do they have little sharp puppy teeth that tear up everything?” Evelyn asked.

“Well, yes, but they’re also smart and can be trained,” Cullen replied. “And they’re protective of their person.”

“Their person?” Dorian asked, looking amused.

“Mabari puppies imprint on the people they choose as their companions,” Cullen explained. “They’re not exactly pets.”

“You’ve had a Mabari then?” Dorian asked.

Cullen nodded. “I got my pup when I was ten. She died during the Blight.”

“I’m sorry,” Dorian said, looking a little panicked.

Cullen chuckled. “It’s alright. She’d bitten a chunk out of a darkspawn so it was probably for the best. I think she’d swallowed what he’d bitten.”

“Ah,” Dorian said then he eyed Cullen curiously. “You never got a new one?”

“I thought about it a few times but the few times I went and saw the litters, none of the pups imprinted on me.” He shrugged. “It happens.”

“Can we get back on track?” Evelyn said with amusement. She sighed. “Yes, Cullen, you may get a Mabari puppy for Aiden. Just be prepared to have a very excited little boy following you around _forever_.”

Cullen chuckled. “I could cope with that. My nieces and nephews always liked me.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Evelyn said. “Okay. So we’ve sorted out Samson and the ball. Now tell me what we’re going to do about Duke Corypheus because I’m tired of reacting to what he’s doing. I’d like to get on the front foot for once.”

“We could officially raid his Hylan estate,” Josephine suggested. “Though without open and visible cause, it would not go over well with the nobles even after we revealed what was found. They’d approve in a way but they wouldn’t like the precedent it sets.”

“I could write to Knight-Commander Gregoir,” Cullen asked. “If there are Templars going missing, he’d like to know.” He looked over at Leliana. “These were _Templars_ , yes? Not former Templars like Samson?”

“As far as Harding could tell, yes,” Leliana replied. “They were wearing the armour.”

“Right,” Cullen said. “So they’ve gone missing. Gregoir will want to know.”

“Write to him,” Evelyn said. “If he knows they’re missing and not dead, he can hopefully put the rest of the Templars on guard. I’ll write to the Knight-Commander in Orlais myself.”

“What about the slaves?” Evelyn asked.

“I’ll tighten the watch on all approaches to the city,” Leliana said. “And I’ll assign people to beyond the borders as well. If we can deter them before they cross the borders, I’d be much happier.”

“Orlais won’t like that,” Evelyn said.

“Orlais won’t know,” Leliana replied with a tight smirk.

Evelyn looked at the vial of red lyrium that was still on the table. “And what can we do about that?”

“Get it away from me for one,” Cullen muttered then he blushed. “I, uh… it’s lyrium.”

Everyone in the room knew of Cullen’s past with lyrium. The Queen and Council had been informed of the events of the Blight before the marriage had been agreed to as it had been considered something that they needed to know. If, Maker forbid, Cullen were to backslide, they needed to know of the risk before it even began. Leliana swept the vial up and wrapped it again before striding to the door and passing it with strict orders to one of her people waiting outside.

“My apologies,” she said when she returned to her seat. “I should have done that earlier.”

Cullen looked uncomfortable and a little bit awkward as he nodded to her. It was only when Dorian placed a hand on his knee that he managed a weak smile and relaxed a little. He didn’t much care for having his weaknesses so widely known but there was little he could do about it.

“What did they do in Kirkwall?” Cassandra asked, breaking the low level of tension in the room. “With the… statue?”

“I don’t know actually,” Cullen said. “My father had me pulled out of there before that was decided. He was furious I was there in the first place.”

“I’ll write to the new Knight-Commander of Kirkwall,” Evelyn said with a sigh. “That’s not quite as urgent but we are going to have to clean up Corypheus’ mess after all this is over.”

There was a general grumble about that and they went back to making plans for Corypheus. Finally Evelyn called a halt when they started going round in circles and everyone made their farewells and left Cullen and Dorian alone. Once the door closed behind Evelyn, Cullen sighed and leaned into Dorian.

“Tired?” Dorian asked, wrapping his arm around Cullen’s shoulders.

Cullen nodded. “A bit. A little frustrated too.”

“Because you can’t fight back?”

“Yes,” Cullen said with a sigh. “Ever since this marriage was agreed to, I’ve felt like my entire life has been out of my control. Now I can’t even defend myself.”

“It’s for a reason,” Dorian said.

“I know.” Cullen scrubbed his face with one hand. “And I understand. I even agree with it. But I just hate feeling helpless.”

“It’s only temporary, Amatus.”

Cullen looked at him dubiously. “Is it? I know we’re all caught up in this trouble with Duke Corypheus but what really changes afterwards? I’m still a Prince without a role or even really a place here. I know Evelyn and Leliana and Josephine have joked about me standing around, looking pretty, but that feels like all I’m here to do - stand around and look pretty. Dorian, I can’t live like that.”

“We’ll find something for you to do,” Dorian said soothingly. As much as he didn’t like the distress and despair in Cullen’s words, he was relieved that he was actually talking about it with him of his own volition. “I don’t think this is going to be as clean as everyone might like it to be. That red lyrium alone is going to trouble.”

Cullen shuddered. “It feels as bad as I remember and if it’s gotten a toe hold in the Hylan district, it might be difficult to get it out.”

“That’s what worries me,” Dorian said. “From what you’ve told me, it seems very insidious and it sounds like Corypheus has been growing it.” He grimaced. “That’s horrific.”

“Hopefully we can get the slaves and Templars out but it sounds like they might be too far gone,” Cullen said glumly.

Dorian shuddered and in a lightning move, he clambered into Cullen’s lap. 

Cullen’s eyes widened then he smiled as his hands came to rest on Dorian’s hips. “Hello.”

Dorian grinned and leaned in for a kiss. “Tell me about puppies. I don’t want to talk about red lyrium or Corypheus anymore. I want to talk about puppies.”

“You don’t really seem the puppy type,” Cullen said with a chuckle.

“I’m not,” Dorian said wryly. “But I can see from the look on your face that I might want to rethink that. I daresay they’re not going to send just one puppy along if you ask for one for Aiden.”

“No, one of the breeders with probably bring a litter or two,” Cullen replied.

“And you’re going to see if one of them likes you,” Dorian said with fond amusement.

Cullen blushed a little. “I… well, yes, I had thought about that. I’ve missed having a pup.”

Dorian sighed and pretended to look put upon. “I suppose I shall have to prepare myself to be drooled upon then?”

“Yes,” Cullen said, his smirk making itself obvious. “Though given it’s a Mabari, if you really don’t want them to drool on you, they won’t.” He grinned. “Of course they’re just as likely to do it _because_ you don’t want them to.”

“That’d be right,” Dorian said with amiable disgust. “Ugh. Remind me to see if there are any drool-proof fabrics.”

Cullen tugged Dorian’s shirt loose and ran his hands up underneath the fabric. “Or you could just have more baths.”

Dorian chuckled. “I see. You just want to get me naked in your bathtub.”

Cullen blushed. “Maybe.”

“You don’t need to have a dog drool on me for that,” Dorian said, wriggling in Cullen’s lap until the other man gasped and gripped his hips again. “I’ll happily walk around naked here whenever you want.”

Cullen swallowed. “I, um… that’s very tempting.”

Dorian leaned in and kissed Cullen again. As much as he wanted to strip them both naked and have his wicked way with his lover, he knew Cullen was tired and with the ball rapidly approaching, Cullen needed to recover as much as he could before the night in question. So he kept the kiss gentle then got up and held out his hand. 

“Come, Amatus. You need some rest.”

Cullen sighed then got to his feet with a wince. He placed his hand over the almost healed wound on his side and followed Dorian into the bedroom.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's time for the ball. It goes about as well as they expected.
> 
> Ugh, I hate writing children. I hope I wasn't too horrible at it.

Cullen fidgeted and pulled at his collar as he waited in the antechamber outside the ballroom. He had knives tucked in special sheaths strapped to both forearms as well as a tiny knife barely bigger than the palm of his hand hidden in each boot but he still felt oddly naked. Not that he was. The tailors had presented him with something akin to a uniform in Templar red with sashes and braid and even the medals he was entitled to on one breast. It was better than some of the other options he’d seen but he still felt uncomfortable in it. He pulled at the collar again then jumped when Evelyn slapped at his hand.

“If you mess up that uniform, Josie’s going to have your guts for garters,” the Queen said with open amusement.

“It’s too tight,” Cullen complained.

“It’s _fine_ ,” Evelyn replied. “It’s perfect.”

Cullen sighed then he looked at his wife. Evelyn was wearing a long dress in a shade of red that wasn’t exactly the same as his jacket but complemented it well. “You look beautiful, Evelyn.”

She beamed at him and twirled around, the skirt of her dress flaring out as she did. “Thank you, Cullen. I’ve got three knives hidden in this thing if you can believe it.”

Cullen coughed and went very red because he couldn’t imagine where she had them. Except he _could_ imagine and he knew he really _shouldn’t_ be doing that because if he did, Blackwall was likely to pound him into the ground the next time they sparred in the morning. Evelyn seemed to know exactly what he was thinking because she was giggling and giving him a look of wicked amusement.

“I’m sorry, Cullen, I shouldn’t laugh but your face…”

Cullen smiled wryly. “I do seem to walk into things like this.”

Evelyn took his arm, still giggling intermittently. “I’m glad we’re friends, Cullen,” she said rather seriously. “I know this wasn’t what you wanted or really what I wanted for that matter but I knew I’d have to do it at some point. I’m just glad it was you.”

“I, um…” Cullen honestly wasn’t sure what to say. 

Evelyn laughed softly. “And I know you’re still wondering what you can do here. I think Blackwall has some ideas but things are so chaotic at the moment that he hasn’t had time for anything else.”

“I… he doesn’t have to…” Cullen began then he broke off when Evelyn thumped his arm.

“I know he doesn’t _have_ to but he _wants_ to,” she said. “He likes you and he wasn’t expecting that. He doesn’t like the idea of wasting your talents.”

Cullen’s attempt at a reply to that was lost when Josephine opened the door and gestured for them to enter. The Seneschal looked particularly stressed this evening and Evelyn had informed him very seriously that they should just do whatever it was she wanted tonight otherwise Josephine’s head might explode. Cullen had thought she was joking until he’d caught sight of the Seneschal. Josephine really did look like the slightest obstinacy might cause her head to explode… or have her turn to homicide. Or even regicide.

So instead of arguing or saying anything else, he offered his arm to Evelyn. She took it regally and they walked calmly into the main hall. He could feel others coming from other directions to form up behind them and from the piping voice that was quickly shushed, one of them was the Crown Prince.

“Her Majesty, Queen Evelyn of House Trevelyan,” the herald boomed. “His Royal Highness, the Prince Consort of Skyhold, Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Ferelden.”

Cullen and Evelyn made their stately way down the stairs and Cullen did his best to remember to smile and look regal and _not_ like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Behind them, he could hear the Herald continuing his announcements.

“His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince of Skyhold, Prince Aiden and his nanny, the Lady Fiona.”

“The Royal Champion, Lady Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena…”

“Get on with it.”

Cullen was suddenly forced to keep a straight face both at the multitude of names and Cassandra’s impatient growl at the herald, who, on his part, continued with unconcerned aplomb.

“… Pentaghast of Nevarra.”

The rest of the herald’s introductions were lost as he and Evelyn now began to mix with the gathered crowd of nobles and courtiers and assorted hangers on. There was an air of almost calculating interest in the way they eyed the two of them and the question were laced with all sorts of veiled remarks and Cullen had to work hard not to get his hackles up at the implications within all those looks and remarks. He did his best to follow Evelyn’s lead and evade them but he didn’t have her training in such things. Eventually though he hit upon a few phrases that seemed to work and he stuck to them.

The way they were suddenly separated was done so deftly that he almost didn’t notice. If he hadn’t been alert to the fact that there was likely to be trouble tonight, he might not have noticed for a great deal longer. But because he was alert, he did notice when suddenly he was being quietly and carefully shunted towards one of the many alcoves in the hall. He glanced around quickly and saw that the same was happening to Aiden and he began to try and angle himself towards the boy. He couldn’t see anyone else so he could do little more than hope they were paying attention and that Blackwall’s guards were a good as he said they were. Considering he couldn’t see any trace of them, they were either were that good or… they weren’t. And Blackwall had a very large problem.

When the attack finally came, it was the sudden hum of red lyrium from behind him that alerted Cullen. His hackles went up and he lunged forward, shoving aside the rather smarmy nobleman who had been deftly manoeuvring him. He heard the rush of a blade through the air and a muttered curse but he didn’t look back. He shoved his way through the crowd just in time to see an assassin slip behind Aiden and he reacted without thought. A quick flick of his wrist loosened one of the knives and he flicked his hand forward to release it. The knife flew and lodged itself in the man’s cheek. 

After that, things boiled into chaos. Nearby nobles who weren’t involved suddenly screamed and started to try and get clear. Fiona picked up Aiden and when Cullen closed the gap, she pushed the boy into Cullen’s arms before drawing a long knife of her own.

“Get him out,” she snapped as she darted around them to engage with Cullen’s assassins.

Cullen moved without thought as Aiden burrowed in as close to him as possible, gripping on tightly with arms and legs. He darted into the panicked crowd, _away_ from the nearest exits. That would be the obvious place for more assassins to be waiting. He let the crowd carry them along towards the main entrance and as he did, he felt people form up around him. He spared a glance for them and saw their professional expressions. So, either Blackwall’s guards or… professional assassins taking advantage.

Once they had cleared through the doors, he broke left and darted into the gardens. Two of the guards ran alongside him, their swords drawn, while the others formed a loose wall behind them.

“Where to, Your Highness?” one of the guards said.

Before Cullen could reply, three assassins leapt out from the bushes and one of the guards shoved them in the opposite direction.

“Go!”

Cullen ran with just the single guard now and he made up his mind where he was going to go. He knew he was relying on a fair few assumptions but he was confident that his friends would have made all sorts of plans within plans within plans. They were definitely the sort to do that.

He ran for the gate that lead into the city and when they reached it, the remaining guard stopped and set herself firmly.

“Go, Your Highness,” she said with a nod.

Cullen nodded back. “Take care.” Then he opened the gate and slipped out.

He hadn’t gone more than four paces when someone dropped down from the window of the nearest building. He came to a halt, shifting Aiden so that he could reach for one of his remaining knives, then he recognised who it was and he smiled slightly. 

“Sera.”

“Wot’s going on?” the elven woman demanded.

“Trouble,” Cullen replied. “We need to get somewhere safe.”

Sera jerked her head towards the building she’d come from. “Lord Nobby-Nobs is in Orlais. We’ll be safe here.”

Cullen followed Sera into the building and up to the room she’d claimed. She closed and locked the door behind them then hurried over to the window and signalled to someone.

“They’ll get a message to the Spymaster,” Sera explained as she shoved Cullen and Aiden towards the safest corner. “And who’s the short stuff?”

“This is Aiden,” Cullen said, coaxing the young boy into letting go. Aiden looked frightened and wary. “Aiden, this is Sera. She’s a friend.”

“Hey, squirt,” Sera said with a cheery wave. 

Aiden smiled a little and waved back but otherwise clung tightly to Cullen’s side. He looked up with a worried expression on his face. “Cullen? What’s happening? Where’s Mama? Where’s Papa? And Fiona?”

Cullen crouched down and drew the boy close. “There’s been some trouble, Aiden. Your Mama is safe. Your Papa wouldn’t let anything happen to her. I’m sure Fiona is fine as well.”

“Those men were trying to kill us,” Aiden said with the soberness that only small children can manage. “Why didn’t Papa’s guards stop them?”

Cullen managed to keep his reaction to Aiden’s innocent confirmation of his parentage to little more than a quirk of one eyebrow. “I’m sure your Papa’s guards did stop them.”

“ _You_ stopped one of them,” Aiden said.

“I did and the guards will stop the rest.” Cullen looked around. “Right now, we need to stay safe.”

“Why were they trying to kill us?”

Cullen winced and sat down, drawing Aiden close to his side. “That’s… very complicated, Aiden. Your Mama and Papa will be able to explain when this is all over.”

“They’re bad people, short stuff,” Sera said. “That’s all you need to know.”

They all stilled when there was a knock at the door then Sera relaxed as the knock settled into a pattern. She bounded over to the door and unlocked it, easing it open to reveal a very scruffy looking man and Dorian.

“He says he knows ‘em,” the man said, jerking his chin towards Cullen and Aiden.

“Yeah, Shiny’s okay,” Sera said, stepping aside to let Dorian in the closing and locking the door once again.

“Shiny?” Dorian said with a measure of amused affront.

Sera poked him in the chest. “Yah, you’re very shiny. Now stop making so much noise. We’re hiding.”

“What’s going on?” Cullen asked quietly as Dorian joined them in the corner.

Dorian’s eyes flickered down to Aiden then he sat down next to them. “Bedlam as you might expect. Between them, Captain Blackwall’s guards and Leliana’s people have managed to capture a number of the assassins but some are still on the loose so you’re both to, and I quote, ‘stay where you are if you’re safe’.”

“I think we’re safe enough here,” Cullen said, nodding to Sera. “I trust Sera and her people.”

They both pretended to ignore the way Sera preened at that.

“Are Mama and Papa okay?” Aiden said, peering around Cullen’s side at Dorian with a mix of worry and interest. “And who are you?”

Dorian smiled though he quirked an eyebrow at Cullen who returned the gesture. “I, Your Highness, am Dorian Pavus of the Courtesan’s Guild and your Mama and Papa are both fine.”

Aiden heaved a sigh of relief then he looked at Dorian again. “Are you a courtesan?”

“I am.”

“Are you Cullen’s courtesan?” 

Cullen blushed and Dorian hesitated between the technically correct answer, which was yes, and the more truthful answer, which was far more complicated and part of a discussion they hadn’t broached as yet. Aiden looked between the two dumbstruck men then looked over at Sera with a frown.

Sera cackled then quickly quietened, though she didn’t lose the grin. “He might have been but they haven’t got their heads out of their ar… backsides yet to see it’s more than that, short stuff.”

Aiden frowned in thought then his expression cleared. “Oh, so you mean it’s like Mama and Papa. Mama said that Papa started out as just her Guard Captain and then he became more.”

Dorian cleared his throat. “Yes, well, that’s… a good analogy there, Your Highness.”

“You can call me Aiden if you like,” the little boy said with a wry shrug. “Mama always says titles are for formal occasions.” He settled back against Cullen with an air of satisfaction and was silent for a moment then he looked up. “Cullen? Are you _really_ going to get me a puppy? Mama was grumbling about it until Papa started teasing her.”

Cullen licked his lips. “Uh, yes, I was planning on doing that. The royal kennels back home should have a few litters available soon so I was going to write and see what could be done.”

“Mabari are really smart, aren’t they?”

“Yes, they are,” Cullen said, warming to the subject. “I imprinted my first pup when I was your age. Callie was with me until the Blight came through Ferelden.”

“What happened to her?”

Cullen hesitated for a moment. “She… died. She was Blighted after she bit some darkspawn. But she saved several lives doing so, including my own.”

“Will my mabari protect me?” Aiden asked and when he looked up, they could see the fear that was still lingering in his eyes. 

“Absolutely,” Cullen said. “They’re very loyal and very fierce when they need to be.”

“I wish I’d had a mabari tonight,” the prince said in a small voice.

Cullen wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Me too.”

Aiden looked at him with surprise. “Were you afraid too?”

“Of course I was,” Cullen replied.

“I didn’t think adults got afraid.”

“We definitely do.” Cullen smiled wryly. “Sometimes I think we get more afraid than children.”

“Oh.” Aiden thought about that then he relaxed. “I tried to be brave.”

“You’ve been very brave, little one,” Dorian said, reaching around Cullen to ruffle Aiden’s hair. 

Aiden smiled and the conversation trailed off. Sera perched in the window and watched the street below though several times she drew back out of sight. Finally she leaned out and waved to someone and turned back to them.

“That’s the all clear,” she said. “It’ll have come from the Spymaster.”

Cullen got to his feet and then helped Dorian and Aiden. “Let’s go back and see what’s happened.”


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the ball. There are some curious things afoot and some bad ones as well. Ooops! Sorry.

The moment they set foot in the Royal Wing, Aiden was swept up in his mother’s arms. She hugged him fiercely then he was claimed by Blackwall.

“Thank you, Cullen,” Evelyn said fervently, clutching his arm with relief then letting go to take her son again. 

“Aye, thank you,” Blackwall said, gripping Cullen’s shoulder tightly. 

“I made Evelyn a promise,” Cullen said with a nod. “I said I’d keep him safe if anything happened.”

Blackwall nodded and gave him a small smile. “And you did.” He looked over at the Queen. “We’ll be in the blue room when you’ve got him settled, Evie.”

Evelyn nodded and hurried off to the nursery. Cullen and Dorian followed Blackwall into the blue room where they found Josephine and Cassandra waiting for them. Leliana was conspicuously absent. Cassandra was sporting a bandage on her upper left arm and a bruise on her forehead but that seemed to be the worst of the injuries. The Champion half rose when they came in.

“You are uninjured, Cullen? And Aiden?”

Cullen nodded as he sat down, Dorian immediately sitting beside him. “I’m fine. We’re fine. They didn’t touch me or Aiden.”

“Good,” Cassandra said with a sigh.

It took another half an hour before Evelyn came into the room and she immediately smiled at Cullen.

“I think you’re his new hero. He told me all about how you swept him up and kept him safe.”

Cullen blushed and ducked his head. “I was just doing the sensible thing.”

“Nonsense,” Dorian said with a tiny grin. “You were terribly heroic. You’re just going to have to deal with that.”

Cullen gave him an exasperated look. “I did what was sensible. I got us both out of there.”

“Did you know Sera would be there?” Josephine asked curiously.

Cullen hesitated. “Not specifically, no. I was aware from things you and Leliana have said in my hearing that there were contingency plans in place. I took a chance that some of those plans might include people outside ready to help if necessary.”

“Why did you leave the Stronghold?” Cassandra asked.

“I thought that would be the last thing they’d expect me to do,” Cullen replied. “I knew heading for the Royal Wing would be a mistake and frankly they’d expect me to stay in the Stronghold on the basis that it’s where the guards and so on are. Getting outside and into the city would limit their ability to control the situation.”

“What would you have done if Sera hadn’t been there?” Evelyn asked.

“Headed for either the Courtesan’s Guild, the Hanged Man or Solas’ shop,” Cullen said promptly. “If it had been just me, I might have found a place to make a stand in the Stronghold but since I had Aiden with me, I needed to get to somewhere safe. The Guild has its own guards, Varric has… resources I probably shouldn’t ask too many questions about…” There were a number of smothered smiles and low chuckles at that. “…and frankly I’d dare anyone to take on Solas and Cole and come out the winner.” He shook his head. “There’s something odd about both of them. Not threatening odd, just… odd.”

“Like they’re keeping secrets?” Dorian suggested. “Not to hurt anyone, just secrets.”

“Pretty much.”

“Good reasoning on all of that,” Blackwall said with approval. 

“What happened here?” Cullen asked. “I didn’t really see much in the chaos.”

“They made attempts on Cassandra, me, Josephine and Leliana as well as a number of nobles and high ranking merchants who are known to be firm supporters of the Queen,” Blackwall said then he smirked. “They also made an attempt on Madame de Fer and Dorian. They regretted that for the very short period of time they were allowed to live.”

Cullen’s eyes widened and he turned to the man sitting beside him. “They attacked you?”

“Unsuccessfully, Amatus,” Dorian said. “Very unsuccessfully.”

“They made a lovely pyre,” Josephine said dryly. “I think they’d either forgotten or didn’t know that Dorian is a mage.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cullen demanded, utterly unappeased by that news.

Dorian arched an eyebrow. “Because little ears were there and didn’t need to know things like that.”

That brought Cullen up and he finally scowled and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“I fully intended to tell you when we had a chance but Blackwall got in before me.” He rolled his eyes at the Guard Captain and continued on in a tone that was an excellent imitation of Madame de Fer. “Thank you, darling, I would have broken the news much more gently.”

Blackwall snorted. “He’s a soldier. He doesn’t need gentle.”

“Suffice to say, I’m fine and between the two of us, Vivienne and I made a terrible mess of the floor in the main hall.” He batted his eyelids at Josephine. “Can you ever forgive us, Josephine?”

The Seneschal laughed. “I’m sure I can manage, though I shudder to think what it is going to cost to fix all the damage in the hall.”

“Anyway,” Blackwall said firmly. “We estimated there were probably close to fifty or sixty assassins all told.”

“Maker,” Cullen breathed. “Where did Corypheus get so many?”

“Not all were professional assassins,” Cassandra said. “There was a mix of professionals, soldiers, bandits and thugs. The professionals were largely aimed at us.”

“We’re not sure how many escaped in the chaos,” Blackwall continued. “But we know there were close to thirty killed and ten taken prisoner, including some of the professionals. Leliana and her people are questioning them now.”

“Friendly casualties?” Cullen asked.

“None,” Blackwall said with satisfaction. “We’ve got some injuries, admittedly a few severe, but no one was killed except for them. And none of our injured will die according to the healers.”

“That’s… remarkable,” Cullen said. Then he frowned. “Actually that’s suspiciously remarkable.”

Blackwall smiled and looked smug and Cassandra chuckled, looking oddly proud. Josephine sighed and rolled her eyes.

“You picked that up quicker than I thought you might,” Blackwall said.

Cullen frowned. “I’m not an idiot.”

“But you’re a soldier and not used to a court like this,” Blackwall said soothingly. “I’ve heard the Ferelden court is much more… direct.”

“I’m still a soldier and I know how skirmishes tend to run, especially skirmishes in tight quarters with a lot of innocents around,” Cullen said testily. 

Blackwall held his hands up and looked contrite. “Good point. I’ll stop underestimating you.”

“Good.” Cullen rolled his shoulders to rid them of some of the tension that had suddenly built up in them. “Alright, so what’s Corypheus up to?”

“That we don’t know,” Blackwall replied. “I’m hoping Leliana will be able to find out from the assassins we captured.”

“The fact he used thugs and bandits is disturbing,” Cullen said, frowning in thought. “Professionals will aim at their targets and then get out. It’s a job and they want to both get paid and live. My guess is they’ll hold out for a while but they’ll eventually talk if Leliana is… firm with them. But the thugs…” His frown deepened. “You don’t send thugs to do this kind of work unless you’re looking for real trouble.” He suddenly stopped and winced. “Are the thugs locals?”

“I’m not sure,” Blackwall said, his gaze sharpening. “Why?”

“My bet is the thugs and the bandits will mostly be outsiders,” Cullen said grimly. “Orlesians or possibly Fereldans but all things being given, I’d say Orlesians.”

“There’s no faction in Ferelden that opposed the alliance?” Cassandra asked. “One that might make a convenient scapegoat for an attempt to destabilise things?”

“There were people who were unhappy or uneasy about it,” Cullen replied. “Mostly the Arls, Teyrns and those of the Bannorn whose lands abut Haven. But none who outright objected. Most of them could see how an alliance could only be a good thing. Their uneasiness comes more from a distrust that Haven would keep its word than anything else.” He grimaced. “I suspect the push for an alliance marriage on the Ferelden side came from them in the hopes that they’d at least get some warning if Haven broke the alliance.” 

Evelyn winced. “Is our reputation _that_ bad?”

“Only with the border people,” Cullen replied. “And even the most pigheaded of them would admit that things have been fairly settled since your father took the throne. They’ve just got long memories.”

“So was it luck or good management that got us the lack of deaths?” Evelyn asked.

“Probably a bit of both,” Cullen replied. “The preparations we made definitely helped but I’d really like to know what orders the professionals had compared with the thugs before I make any real judgement.”

“That will have to wait until Leliana and her people are finished,” Cassandra said. She got to her feet and raised an eyebrow at the Queen. “In the meantime, I think we should all get some rest.”

Evelyn sighed and rubbed her eyes. “You’re right. We can’t make any decisions tonight.” She waited until everyone else had gotten up then she came over and hugged Cullen tightly. “And thank you again, Cullen.”

She swept out of the room with Blackwall, Cassandra and Josephine in her wake, leaving Cullen and Dorian alone.

Dorian took in the slightly stunned look on Cullen’s face and chuckled. “Come, Amatus,” he said, taking Cullen’s hand. “Bed for you as well. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Cullen shook his head ruefully. “Maker knows why. I barely did anything tonight. You did more than me.”

“You stayed alive and you kept the young prince alive,” Dorian said sternly as they made their way to Cullen’s rooms. “That is not _nothing_. That was perhaps the most important thing you could have done. Whatever Corypheus planned to do with his thugs is undoubtedly stymied by the fact that you two are still alive and very, very well.”

Cullen grumbled under his breath but let himself be pushed into the bedroom. Once inside, he suddenly turned and pressed Dorian up against the door. The mage looked startled for a moment then he smiled coyly.

“My goodness. And here I thought you were tired.”

Cullen ignored that. “It’s more than that?”

For a moment Dorian had no idea what he was talking about then he remembered the awkward conversation in the house with Sera and Aiden and he actually blushed. He swallowed hard and looked everywhere but at Cullen. He honestly hadn’t known how to answer Aiden’s question but while he wasn’t anything more than Cullen’s courtesan right now, he wanted to be. And that frightened him more than he liked to admit. The last time he’d _wanted_ that, the last time he’d put himself and his heart on the line for that, had gone very, very badly. While he was sure it wouldn’t happen this time, he was still scared.

“Dorian?” Cullen asked softly. He ran his fingers along Dorian’s jaw and slid them under his chin, raising his head so that they could look at each other properly. “I want more. I want… everything.”

Dorian drew in a sharp breath. He could see the honesty and truth in Cullen’s eyes and in his face. “Amatus,” he said helplessly. “I… yes…”

Cullen smiled and opened his mouth to say something but before he could, he suddenly grunted and looked surprised. He slumped heavily against Dorian and as he did, the assassin behind him was revealed. For a moment Dorian’s eyes met those of the assassin then, with a barked word, he cast a mind blast that sent the assassin flying across the room to slam into the wall. The assassin slumped to the ground unconscious and Dorian caught Cullen and lowered him to the ground. A glance over his lover’s shoulder showed him the knife sticking out of his back and from the way Cullen was breathing, it had punctured a lung at the very least.

“Guards!” Dorian bellowed as he cradled Cullen against him. “Help!”

The door burst open and the two guards who entered took one look at the scene in front of them and moved immediately to secure the assassin. When that had been done, one of the guards ran out of the room while the other hauled the unconscious assassin over his shoulder.

“My lord?” the guard began.

“Go,” Dorian snapped. “As long as your comrade is bringing help.”

The guard nodded. “We’ll find out how this one got past us.”

Dorian didn’t much care and ignored the guard, barely noticing when he left the room. Instead he steadied Cullen as best as he could.

“D’rian,” Cullen said then he coughed and moaned in pain. His lips were flecked with blood and that sent a cold chill through Dorian. 

“Quiet, you foolish man,” Dorian said, his voice harsh with worry.

“Need to tell you…”

“You’ll tell me later.” Dorian cradled Cullen’s face with one hand. “If those thugs in the city couldn’t kill you, this certainly won’t.”

Cullen licked his lips and grimaced. “There’s something… the knife… lyrium…”

Dorian went still and looked at the knife as best as he could. Before he could determine anything though, the door slammed open and two healers ran in with three guards followed by Evelyn, Blackwall and Cassandra. The healers dropped to their knees beside them and reached for Cullen. 

“He was saying something about the knife and lyrium,” Dorian said, reluctantly letting go of his lover.

The healers nodded but were more interested in Cullen and what he needed. As Dorian thoroughly approved of that, he let them get to work. When the hand landed on his shoulder, he gave a start and looked around to find Cassandra kneeling next to him. Behind her, Blackwall was questioning the guard who had originally answered Dorian’s call for help while Evelyn watched everything carefully.

“What happened?” Cassandra asked quietly.

“ _Why_ didn’t anyone search Cullen’s rooms?” Dorian demanded, his fear turning now to anger. “There was an assassin here.”

“They were searched,” Cassandra said grimly. “Thoroughly. Then there were guards placed outside to ensure no one could get in.”

“Well then, obviously someone failed,” Dorian snapped. “My only question is was it deliberate?”

“I believe Captain Blackwall will find the answer to that,” Cassandra said.

The healers waved to the guards and they gently lifted Cullen and placed him on the bed. Dorian made an abortive move towards the bed himself but was stopped by the senior healer’s upraised hand.

“The knife was…” The healer cleared his throat then held out the knife with expression of distaste. “See for yourselves.”

The hilt of the knife was perfectly ordinary but it was the thin blade that made them all pale and wide-eyed. While most of the slender blade was perfectly normal steel, there was an even thinner core of red lyrium running along the middle that sang and hummed unpleasantly.

“How did he not notice the red lyrium song?” Cassandra asked, frowning. 

Dorian grimaced. “We were… a little distracted.” He glanced past the healer towards his lover and asked the one question he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer to. “Is he… contaminated?”

The healer hesitated for a moment then shook his head. “As far as I can tell, no.” He brandished the knife again. “The contact was minimal but I believe that…” He gestured to the red lyrium core. “I believe it was meant to detach once the blade was fully embedded in the Prince Consort. It’s such a fine shard that we might not have been able to extract it.”

“Could it have… dissolved or been metabolised in some way?” Evelyn asked, a sick expression on her face.

“It’s possible,” the healer replied. “We can only speculate about red lyrium’s actions based on what we know of ordinary lyrium and Sister Leliana’s reports. Ordinary lyrium is metabolised by both mages and Templars so it follows logically that red lyrium could be as well.”

Dorian’s knees buckled under him and he was caught by the Champion. She deposited him on the side of the bed and he scrubbed his face with one hand.

“I thought they were trying to kill Cullen,” he said. “Not… not turn him into…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

Blackwall frowned. “The blades the other assassins had didn’t look like that one but I’ll check with Leliana. I’ll also get her to prioritise this one. I want to know how he got into the Stronghold and Cullen’s rooms as much as anything else.”

The Captain turned on one heel and left the room, his face as dark as a thundercloud. Evelyn watched him go then came over and crouched down in front of Dorian.

“Stay with him, Dorian,” she said quietly. “Cassandra’s going to set herself up in the other room until we have some answers.”

Dorian nodded his head mutely but when Evelyn rose to her feet, he caught her hand. “Could you send a message to Vivienne for me?”

“Of course,” Evelyn said kindly. “What did you want me to tell her?”

“That… that I’m retiring,” Dorian said hurriedly, as though if he hesitated or thought about it, he might not be able to get the words out of his mouth.

Evelyn’s smile, though tinged with worry, was blindly happy. “I’ll do that.” She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “And I’m glad,” she murmured for his ears only. “I hoped for this. I found love. Cullen… and you… deserve the same.”

Dorian gave her a weak smile then watched as she and Cassandra left, closing the door behind them. He stayed where he was for a moment then drew in a deep breath to fortify himself and shifted over so that he was lying next to Cullen. The healers had dosed him with more than one potion and he was lying on his side, fast asleep. He watched his lover sleep for a while then an idea came to mind.

He eased himself off the bed and went over to Cullen’s desk. It wasn’t hard to find paper and a pen and he quickly wrote a short letter then an even shorter note. He walked out of the bedroom and nodded to Cassandra before heading for the door. He opened it to find four guards standing outside, one on either side of the door and two across the hall.

He held out the letter. “Could one of you please take this to Leliana?”

One of the guards across the hall nodded, taking the note with a quick salute. “Of course, my lord.”

Dorian gave him a nod of thanks and closed the door.

“What was that all about?” Cassandra asked curiously.

“Just a thought,” Dorian replied. “That man Samson can’t seem to decide if he’s Cullen’s friend or not. Maybe finding out what just happened might push him to one side of the fence or another.”

Cassandra looked thoughtful. “That’s an interesting idea. I’m sure Leliana will approve and send it on.”

Dorian nodded slightly then headed back into the bedroom, once again wishing he’d bothered to learn some of the healing his mother had suggested might be useful.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Samson picks a side.

Samson wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or disgruntled. When the agents of Haven’s Spymaster had apprehended him and ordered him to surrender, he’d been surprised then decided to acquiesce. They’d outnumbered him for one and they’d all been young and had that lean, fit look about them. He could have fought but they have overwhelmed him in a heartbeat and he hadn’t been willing to see what their orders were if he tried to resist. 

They’d taken him to a small but quietly lavish house in the middle of nowhere in the Orlesian countryside and he’d been provided with everything he might need in the way of food, clothes and lyrium. It had also been made plain to him that the more he cooperated, the more he would be given and that escape attempts would be dealt with harshly. So he’d cooperated. Whether it was through apathy or a genuine gratitude that he was effectively out of play was a question not even he could answer but he’d certainly been willing to answer the questions directed at him by the dwarven woman who had been sent by the Spymaster. 

From the tenor of the questions, he strongly suspected that the dwarven woman, Harding, had seen Calpernia’s laboratory though he didn’t ask how or why. The horror and disgust on the woman’s face was enough for him and anything that put a spike in Calpernia’s plans was good enough. He was far cagier when it came to answering questions about Corypheus though. He might still get out of this and he wanted to be able to tell the truth if he found himself standing before the Duke once again.

All in all, this imprisonment wasn’t so bad so when the guard entered and left a letter on the table, Samson didn’t think anything of it. He didn’t know anyone who might write to him so he suspected it was from Harding, letting him know in advance the subjects she intended to discuss with him. She’d done it a few times in the past when the subjects were tricky ones. As an interrogator, she was surprisingly gentle. 

But when he opened the letter, the writing was unfamiliar. He read it through then he snarled as he read it for a second time.

_Samson,_

_I believe you referred to me as Cullen’s guard dog. I suppose it is in that capacity as much as it is my position as his lover that I write to you. I am unsure if you were aware of the assassination attempts made on Cullen and diverse others tonight but there is more. Someone sent a different kind of assassin after Cullen. One whose aim was not to kill him but to infect him with red lyrium. As a former friend of Cullen’s, despite your actions against him… or perhaps because of them, I felt you ought to know who you have chosen to ally yourself with._

_Dorian Pavus._

Samson stared at the words on the paper, barely noticing when his tightening grip caused it to crease and crumple. He felt a pang of regret and sorrow at the news that Cullen had moved on and fallen in love with someone else, even as much as he felt relief for the same thing. Let Cullen move on and forget him. He was a wreck who was probably beyond redemption. He certainly didn’t deserve someone as decent as Cullen.

But it was the rest of it that had his blood boiling and he began to pace back and forth across the room. His first thought was that it was Calpernia acting on her own initiative but he quickly dismissed that. There was no way she’d do something that drastic without approval from the Duke. He’d known what the woman was up to in that Maker forsaken laboratory of hers and he’d had an inkling of what the Duke wanted him for. Had Corypheus turned to Cullen because Samson had been denied to him?

He whirled around, intending to find Harding and demand some answers, but when he did, he saw that dwarf was already in the room, leaning against the door jamb. It was as though she already knew what was in the letter, which she probably did.

“Well?” he demanded, brandishing the letter like a weapon.

“The healers at Skyhold say he wasn’t infected,” Harding replied, her expression at first solemn then it turned decidedly crafty. “Why would you care? You were the one who tried to get him killed in the first place.”

Rage rose in Samson’s chest then just as quickly it flowed out and he sat down on the couch heavily.

“Ah, fuck, I know you’re right,” he said, his head bowed. “I don’t deserve to know anything about the kid and how he’s going but…” He raised his head and Harding winced at the bleak expression on his face. “I do still care about him, you know? I just… I’m…” He sighed and shook his head. “A wreck. I’ll only drag him down.”

“He doesn’t see it that way,” Harding said quietly.

Samson snorted. “He’s a damn fool. And naïve. And too damn trusting for his own good.”

“Those aren’t necessarily bad things.”

Samson was silent for a while. “I know. Meant he saw things in me I wasn’t sure existed until he said they did.” He shook his head. “Still he turned his back on me like the rest of them.”

“Not by choice.”

Samson gave Harding a sharp look. “Whaddya mean?”

“The King told him to back off, according to what Prince Cullen has told Sister Leliana,” Harding explained. “Prince Cullen still wanted to help you.”

Samson stared at her for a long moment but if she was lying, she was better at disguising it than anyone he knew. He sighed and slumped where he was sitting. “Ah, shit.”

They sat there in silence for a while then Samson straightened. “Alright. I still reckon Cullen’s talking shit when he says I’m a decent bloke but I’m not having him infected with that red crap just because I fell on my face.”

Harding smiled at him and he blinked. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a genuine smile.

“Sister Leliana has some ideas you might find interesting,” she said.

Samson shook his head. “I’m not going to be able to get into the Duke’s lair now, not after being here for so long.”

“You will if you have some very juicy information,” Harding said with a wicked grin. “And a great story about your escape from our clutches.”

Samson eyed her grin with chagrin then he shook his head and gave a bark of a laugh. “This better be good.”

Harding gestured for him to join her. “Come on. I’ve got everything in my office.”

“You’re being pretty damn trusting,” Samson grumble as he followed her out of the room and down the hallway.

“You keep your word in your own way,” Harding said with a shrug. “And Cullen means more to you then you like to let on.”

Samson gave her a sour look that she replied to with a winning smile as they walked into the small study she had claimed as her own.

“Just show me what you want.”

Harding chuckled and gestured for him to sit down. She picked up some of the papers on the desk and sat down herself.

“This came with that letter,” Harding explained. “Sister Leliana, along with the Queen, Captain Blackwall and Cassandra, are tired of playing catch up. We want to lure Duke Corypheus out. We didn’t get as much information as we would have liked from either the assassins or the thugs that were sent during the celebration but the second assassin, the one who attacked Prince Cullen with that red lyrium knife, was a bit more forthcoming.”

“It’s ‘cos I’m here, isn’t it?” Samson grumbled. “I know he wants me for something big, something that needs a Templar. He decided to take Cullen instead.”

Harding shook her head soberly. “That was our thought originally but the assassin says not. He was sent by Calpernia. She’d been charged with killing Cullen after your attack failed but she decided she wanted him as one of her… subjects.”

She made a face that drew a snort from Samson.

“You’ve seen it, haven’t you?” he said. “That… place of hers.”

Harding nodded. “Me and my people broke in a while back. I saw what she’s been doing to the slaves she buys as well as the Templars.”

Samson straightened suddenly and his expression shifted from cynical and apathetic to something far closer to that of the Templar he had once been. “What Templars?”

“You didn’t know?” Harding cocked her head then nodded with satisfaction as she took in his expression. “You didn’t. Good. I thought not.”

“Know _what_?” Samson growled.

“She’s been infecting Templars with red lyrium,” Harding replied. “It… turns them into monsters.” She shuddered as she remembered what she’d seen. “It doesn’t turn them into great columns of red lyrium like it does with the slaves. They get the lyrium growing out of them but they seem to retain some intelligence and ability. We think it’s because you take lyrium normally and that’s given the Templars some sort of… well, resistance.”

“Bloody buggering fuck,” Samson spat. “That’s what he had in mind for me, eh?”

Harding hesitated then nodded. “We believe so. We have no idea what difference your… continued use of lyrium over such a long period would have on the infection.”

Samson grumbled under his breath. “Yeah, most use it only sparingly.” He shook his head. “So what’s this plan?”

“It’s in two parts,” Harding said. “Firstly, you’re going to tell Duke Corypheus what Calpernia’s tried with Prince Cullen. Secondly, we’re going to feed him some false information through you and hopefully draw him into a trap.”

“Information I supposedly grabbed during my escape, right?”

Harding nodded. “Exactly.”

Samson leaned back in his chair and considered this. “What about the lyrium? Both sorts.”

“Well, obviously we’d like to avoid you being exposed to red lyrium.” Harding smiled wryly. “I’m not sure Prince Cullen would forgive us if we allowed that to happen. As for the blue, we’ll supply it.”

“Cullen ain’t going to like that either,” Samson said with a snort.

Harding smiled slightly. “We know but we’re prepared to leave convincing you to stop taking it to him. Besides, this won’t work if you’re going through withdrawal.”

Samson snorted again. “True. So what’s this information?”

“We know Corypheus wants to kill Princes Cullen and Aiden but we want to draw him into a situation where _he_ is the one to do it instead of sloughing the job off to underlings,” Harding replied. She then handed some of the papers to Samson. “We think we can do it this way.”

Samson took the offered information and began reading. Harding sat back and waited for him to finish then they both put their heads together to plan.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made to end this damn thing with Corypheus

“I am _not_ an invalid,” Cullen growled, shrugging off Dorian’s hands.

Dorian gave an impatient huff. “You were stabbed in the back by a knife containing red lyrium, Amatus. I’m sure you’ll forgive me my concern.”

Cullen scowled then he sighed and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. I’m…”

“A complete grump when you’re injured?” Dorian said with a smirk. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

Cullen huffed a small laugh and lowered himself somewhat gingerly to the couch. The knife wound was healing well but it was still tender and he was restricted in how much he could do without having trouble breathing. The knife had punctured his left lung and just barely missed his heart. He’d have wondered whether the assassin had actually been trying to kill him if he didn’t know that this wound, while serious, was not deadly when you were as close to healers as he had been. It had probably been meant to look like a serious assassination attempt in order to distract as much as possible from the intended act of implanting the red lyrium within him.

“I was barely healed after the last one,” he grumbled. 

“I know.” Dorian shivered as he dropped down to sit beside Cullen. “But this might take your mind off things a bit.” He hesitated and licked his lips. His heart was hammering in his chest. “I, uh, told Madame Vivienne I was retiring.” He paused and swallowed. “If… if you’ll have me, that is.”

Cullen knew far more about courtesans than he had when he’d first arrived, both through the things Dorian had told him and from a few discreet questions he’d asked of Josephine. Thus he knew what Dorian was actually asking by telling him this.

“Always,” he said fervently before pulling Dorian into a kiss. 

Dorian leaned against him and smiled. “I could have asked for a permanent contract but I…”

Here his courage failed him and he found himself unable to finish that sentence. A permanent contract would have been the more sensible option. It would have let him see that this really was what it looked like but… he wanted more. He wanted it and he was certain Cullen did as well so he’d taken the risk.

“I’m glad you’re retiring,” Cullen said hurriedly. “I want you. Here. To stay. With me.” He sighed. “Maker’s breath. I really do know how to construct a sentence.”

Dorian laughed, his heart lifting. “I think I understood what you meant, Amatus.”

Cullen had just pulled Dorian in for another kiss when there was a knock at the door. They separated and Dorian got to his feet to open the door. Leliana was standing on the other side and she gave Dorian a small nod. 

“Dorian, may I come in? There’s something I need to discuss with Prince Cullen.” Her eyes narrowed. “And you.”

Dorian took a good look at her then sighed and stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. “I feel like I ought to say no but we both know my curiosity won’t let me do so.”

Leliana smiled a little at that. “I know this seems never-ending but we might have found a way to force things to a head.”

Leliana sat down opposite where Cullen was sitting and waited for Dorian to sit as well. Once they were all settled, she looked at Cullen.

“We’ve had an interesting opportunity arise,” she said after a moment’s pause. 

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “What kind of opportunity?”

“It seems Samson values your well-being more than whatever Duke Corypheus was offering him.”

Cullen gave a start and simply stared at Leliana, leaving Dorian to pick up the thread of the conversation.

“What does Samson have to do with anything?” He scowled. “Hasn’t he done enough already?”

“Perhaps he has but your letter has apparently changed his mind.”

“What letter?” Cullen leaned forward then made a pained noise and let himself fall gently back against the couch. “Dorian?”

Dorian grimaced. “I… may have written a letter to Samson. I may have been a tad bit peeved about what happened.”

“I’m the one who sent it along,” Leliana added. She looked faintly amused. “Dorian had it delivered to me with a note indicating I should judge whether it should be sent or not. I thought it might be worthwhile based on your assessment of him, Cullen.”

Cullen gave Dorian a long look then turned back to Leliana. “And the result?”

“Samson has agreed to help us,” Leliana replied. “But we’re going to need your help as well.”

Cullen snorted and gestured to himself. “And just how am _I_ supposed to help you?”

“It won’t be for a few weeks,” Leliana replied. “You’ll be well enough for what we have in mind, if not in full health.”

“Hasn’t Cullen risked enough?” Dorian said with some irritation.

Leliana inclined her head. “He has, yes, and we could manage without him but this will work best with Cullen’s help.”

“And what exactly is _this_?” Cullen asked acerbically.

“Samson believes it is possible to draw Corypheus out and make him act personally,” Leliana replied. “He is returning to Skyhold with evidence not only that Calpernia acted unilaterally against you but also that…” Her lips curled into a sly smirk. “In light of recent events, you have returned to taking lyrium and that you are impatient and contemptuous about Captain Blackwall’s management of your security.”

Cullen blinked and considered that. “And how precisely is that going to get Corypheus to act?”

“Samson is going to suggest that he has had some tentative contact with you. “Here Leliana hesitated. “You may not like this much but we have it on good information that Corypheus considers you to be… naïve, even a bit simple.”

“And you haven’t been encouraging that at all, have you?” Dorian said sarcastically.

Leliana rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I have, from the moment I first heard it. I’d much rather Corypheus underestimated Cullen.”

“Samson’s going to suggest that he can bring me in somehow?” Cullen asked with a frown. “I still don’t see how that helps. Don’t you want to expose him openly?”

“We do and we shall,” Leliana replied. “The story is going to be that you don’t trust anyone in Haven anymore and that any meeting between the two of you will have to be public. Samson is going to suggest, in his own unique way, that Corypheus throw a party.”

Cullen snorted. He knew exactly what that meant. Samson would throw the idea out in an offhand, almost exasperated way that made it sound like he hated the idea, which oddly enough tended to have the result of people grabbing onto it and doing it. He’d always suspected it was something about Samson’s often obnoxious manner that made people want to annoy him. Samson knew about it and used it to his advantage.

“Can he really pull all of that off?” Dorian asked dubiously.

Cullen nodded. “He can. It won’t be in a form that you or I might choose but he’s effective when he wants to be.” He cocked his head at Leliana. “I still don’t see how this will help.”

“He’s abandoned his Hylan estate,” Leliana replied. “He’s moved everything to his home.”

Cullen’s eyes widened. “Why would he take that risk?”

“Because he had to.” Leliana smirked. “I was able to… persuade his assassins and thugs to talk and two of them knew about the Hylan estate. He must have known that so when we officially raided it, it was empty.” She paused and licked her lips. “And the basement had been entirely sealed off. The stair case is filled with rubble. We’ve left it alone for now, though we are going to have to deal with what’s down there eventually.”

“The slaves and Templars?”

“Unknown.” Leliana sighed. “My people weren’t able to get close enough to see what was going on, just that he had shifted things from there to his home.”

Cullen nodded slowly as he thought things through. “You want me to force the issue to the point where he… loses his temper and makes some sort of move that you can use as an excuse to search the house?”

Leliana nodded. “Preferably in front of the entire party so that the usual busybodies will insist on remaining to ‘protect the Duke’s interests’. If they can see it first hand, that will end any chance Corypheus has of heading this off.”

Dorian looked unimpressed. “And what sort of arrangements will be made?”

“I’ll have my people there as will Blackwall,” Leliana replied. “You will be with Cullen, of course, and I believe I will utilise Sera and her people as well.” She chuckled. “Sera is a very useful ally, even if she is somewhat unorthodox. And she likes both of you.”

Dorian still looked unconvinced as he turned to Cullen. “This will be dangerous, Amatus.”

“I know.” Cullen took Dorian’s hand in his own. “But he’s been targeting me since the beginning and I think this will work. Samson tried and failed. Calpernia tried and failed. It makes sense that Corypheus will be able to be drawn into taking care of things personally.”

“I don’t like it,” Dorian said with a sigh. “But I can see the sense in it.”

“I’ll get things moving on my end,” Leliana said with a nod. “You won’t have to do anything for a couple of weeks but I’ll keep you both in the loop.”

With that the Spymaster got up and hurried from the room. When she was gone, Dorian shifted so that he could look at Cullen more easily.

“Are you sure about this?”

Cullen sighed. “No, but if it ends this then I’ll try it. She's right, you know. This won’t end unless we can draw Corypheus out and either discredit him or… or even kill him.”

“You think it’ll come to that?”

“Maybe.”

Now it was Dorian’s turn to sigh. “I hope you’re right about ending this.”

“So am I.”


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prodigal son returns to Corypheus and Calpernia finds her usefulness at an end.

Corypheus stormed up from the basement that had been hastily converted into a work area for Calpernia. The failure of his plans at the celebration had put him in a bad mood for weeks and being told by his personal guards that Samson had returned had not improved anything. The former Templar had gone missing and reportedly been captured by Haven forces. He hadn’t been able to confirm or deny that and that had been equally as frustrating.

He swept into his study and found a battered and bruised Samson, who was leaning against the mantelpiece and ignoring the guards who were watching him closely. The former Templar looked over at him and Corypheus could see the clear signs of lyrium withdrawal in the man’s red-rimmed eyes and shaking hands.

“Your Grace,” Samson said hoarsely. He had one arm clutched around his middle but he didn’t look like it was protecting an injury, more that he was holding something close.

Corypheus glared at him. “What happened?”

“The Spymaster’s people grabbed me.” Samson rubbed at the side of his head. “They weren’t gentle.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Nothing,” Samson grumbled. “At least nothing they didn’t already know. They were more pissed at me because of what happened to the kid. Not sure they really suspected you much. They pretty much thought I’d gone rogue.”

Corypheus’ glare intensified. “Did they now?”

Samson shrugged. “At least until the last few weeks. Never told me what happened but all of a sudden they were all snarly and free with their fists again.”

The Duke’s glare lessened. “And how did you get away?”

“Pretended to be hurt more than I was,” Samson replied. “They took me out of my cell and into one of the fancy rooms. They only had one guard on me so I was able to knobble him and grab a few things. Then I climbed out a window.” He winced. “Not one of my best ideas. I’m about a decade too old to be doing that shit.”

Corypheus looked faintly amused through his anger and suspicion. Samson’s lack of apologies or bowing and scraping was far more believable than anything else the man might have done. “And what did you grab?”

“Papers and whatnot.” Samson snorted. “Had a read of them on the way here. Reckon you might find them interesting.”

The former Templar pulled the papers out of his tunic with a grimace and hand them over. He leaned more heavily against the mantelpiece until Corypheus waved at him to sit down as he began to read. Samson sat heavily in one of the armchairs and stretched out his legs, closing his eyes with a sigh of relief. Corypheus eyed the performance over the top of the papers and saw no signs of falsity or artifice in it so he dismissed the guards as he continued to read.

“Calpernia,” he suddenly growled.

Samson gave a start, as though he’d been heading towards sleep, and grimaced. “Yeah. Saw that.” He frowned and grumbled. “Didn’t know she’d taken a dip at the kid.”

“She was meant to kill him, not experiment on him,” Corypheus growled then he abruptly stopped and eyed the papers curiously. “Did you know this? About the lyrium?”

“That the kid started taking it again.” Samson managed to conceal most of the despair in his tone and saw the malicious amusement gleaming in Corypheus’ eyes at his reaction. “Yeah, I saw it. Blasted idiot. He’s been trying to contact me apparently. No idea why.”

Corypheus considered that information then a faint smirk appeared on his face. “Let yourself be seen by his friends. Let us see what comes of it.”

Samson hesitated then nodded reluctantly. “He ain’t going to give me a second chance at killing him though.”

“I will take care of that personally since the two of you couldn’t seem to manage one simple task.” Corypheus sneered at him. “The only matter is how.”

“If those papers are right, he ain’t going to let anyone from this place near him,” Samson said. 

“That can be circumvented. As Prince Consort, there are things he must do, places he must go and events he must attend.”

“He’s rotten at parties,” Samson said with a snort. “Likes to hide in a corner. Never could get him out unless someone wanted to talk shop with him. That’s how he ended up as the Lord Marshal’s apprentice.”

“I know my own business,” Corypheus said dismissively. “Go and get cleaned up. I have no use for you if you’re falling on your face.” He gave Samson a contemptuous look. “I’ll have some lyrium sent up.”

Samson nodded and eased himself to his feet. He limped out of the room but Corypheus had already turned back to the papers. Once the ex-Templar was gone, he summoned the Captain of his personal guards.

“Keep watch on Samson. As much as what he says and how he acts rings true, this is all a little too convenient. I want to know who he talks to and what he does.”

The guardsman saluted and left the room. Corypheus returned to the papers for a while then he rose and placed them on his desk. As much as he’d like to get caught up in his plans, he had something else to deal with. He left the study and made his way back downstairs.

“Your Grace,” Calpernia said with a deep bow when he entered the room.

Corypheus didn’t reply. He simply looked around at the meticulous notes the woman had made and nodded to himself. It wouldn’t be difficult to continue her work himself until he found someone to take over. With that decision made, he turned around and with a flare of the red lyrium that was growing within and on him and a wave of his hand, he crushed Calpernia’s skull before she even realised he had become a threat.

He watched the woman’s dead body collapse to the floor then turned and left the basement without a single glance backwards. He paused only to order his servants to remove her body before he returned to the study and his plans.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A final meeting between Cullen and Samson, where things are said and information given.

Cullen wasn’t surprised to receive the message from Varric that Samson was lurking around the Hanged Man but he certainly wasn’t expecting the welter of emotions that it brought with it. He knew that it frustrated Dorian that he felt like he’d failed Samson in some way but he couldn’t help it. Maybe if he’d been more willing to defy his father, to stick with Samson, to _help_ him, the older Templar might have been able to kick his lyrium addiction and keep his place in the Order. He couldn’t change the past but he could try and do better by the older man now, surely?

“Do we go?” Dorian said in a very neutral tone.

“You don’t have to…” Cullen began.

“Yes, I do.” Dorian’s expression was obstinate. “No matter what Leliana thinks, I don’t trust that man.”

Cullen wanted to argue about that but given what had happened last time he was with Samson, he didn’t really have a leg to stand on.

“Just…” He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t let him rile you up. He likes doing that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dorian said dryly.

They informed Blackwall where they were going and headed out of the Stronghold and into the city. They were met at the door of the Hanged Man by a very edgy Varric who gestured towards the private rooms at the back.

“He’s in the first room,” Varric said quietly. “I didn’t think it would be a good idea to keep him out here. He’s got a tail though. The two bravos sitting in the booth in the corner. I’ve called in a few credits with the Carta and I’ve got people standing by if needed.”

“I don’t think it will be,” Cullen said, placing one hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “He’s here to bait a hook, not cause trouble.”

They headed towards the door leading to the back and Dorian leaned in close.

“Are you going to be able to sell being back on lyrium without actually… you know… being back on lyrium?”

Cullen nodded and ushered his lover through the door and into the back corridor. “I don’t think he’ll be able to tell I’m not taking lyrium and even if he can, I don’t think he’s going to let Corypheus know.”

“That’s a hell of a gamble to take.”

Cullen came to a halt and gave Dorian a pained look. “I know you don’t trust him but… he…” He stumbled to a verbal halt and ran a hand down his face. “He’s not a bad person, Dorian. He’s just…”

Dorian sighed and shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Cullen opened the door and walked into the room, Dorian at his heels. Samson was leaning against the window frame and he turned when they came in. Cullen caught sight of the bruises and the stiff way the older man was moving and took an abortive step forward. Dorian closed the door and leaned against it, watching Samson suspiciously.

“What happened?” Cullen asked, his hands twitching at his side as though he wanted to touch but didn’t think it would be welcome.

Samson shrugged. “Had to sell the story I’m feeding to the Duke.”

“They…” Cullen looked appalled, even more so when Samson laughed coarsely.

“I knew what I was getting myself into, kid.”

Cullen sobered and frowned. “I’m not sure you did. Ever.”

Samson bridled and he glared at Cullen. He might have done more if Dorian hadn’t pushed off the door and come to stand beside Cullen, the expression on his face forbidding and cold. Samson looked at the mage then he snorted and leaned against the window frame again.

“Don’t lecture me, kid. You’re the one who fucked off and let me fall.”

“Samson…” Cullen looked stricken and Dorian glared. Samson ignored the latter but Cullen’s expression made him sigh.

“Sorry, kid. I know the King gave you an ultimatum.”

“Still, I should have…”

“Done what you were told,” Samson growled. “You think I didn’t try on my own, kid? I like the way it feels and it’s been too long now for much in the way of hope. Let it go…” He sighed and the look he gave Cullen was fond and a little sad. “Let _me_ go, Cullen. I’m no good for you. Never was, really, but I was selfish enough to take what you were offering. Knew I was going to hurt you in the end.” He jerked his chin towards Dorian. “You’re far better off with your pretty little guard dog there.”

“Stop calling him that,” Cullen snapped. The feel of Dorian’s hand pressing against the small of his back made him take a deep breath and calm down. “His name is Dorian Pavus and I… he…”

Samson rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, you’re in love with him, kid. I’m not blind, you know.” 

He chuckled at the blush that appeared on Cullen’s face then looked over at Dorian. The mage actually blinked at the look on the older man’s face. It was weary and old before its time. It was the look of a man who knows he’s gone well past the point of no return and is willing to face whatever consequences life was going to bring now.

“Don’t worry,” Samson said to Dorian with an edge of cynicism in his voice. “I’m not going to give you any sort of shovel talk. Fuck knows you’re likely to treat him better than I ever did.”

Dorian hesitated for a moment then he gave the former Templar a nod. Samson snorted and bowed his head. When he raised it again, he was all business.

“I’m trying to steer the Duke towards a party,” he said briskly. “I know you hate the fucking things but if you act like you usually do at them, it’ll make it easier for him to get you on your own. He’s planning on killing you himself so be aware of that. And he’s killed Calpernia.” The man’s face darkened. “Whatever the hell she was trying to do to you with the red lyrium? That wasn’t sanctioned.”

Samson hesitated then he grumbled under his breath for a moment. “I know that Spymaster of yours has some grand plans about discrediting the Duke and getting information out of him but I can tell you, it ain’t going to work. He’s been… hmph, fucked if I know how he’s doing it but he’s been… _absorbing_ the red lyrium in some way. Wears jewellery with it and lets the crystals just… fuck, I don’t know. I’ve just seen the results. He’s not going to go quietly if you confront him so you’d better be ready for a fight.”

The former Templar didn’t give them a chance to ask any questions. He pushed himself off the window frame and headed for the door. As he passed Cullen, he came to a halt and caught the man’s arm, causing Dorian to tense and a wave of magic to flow briefly through the room.

“I mean it, Cull,” he said urgently. “You make a move against him and he’s going to rain hell down on everyone. Be fucking careful, yeah?”

With that, Samson slipped out of the room. The moment the door closed, Cullen staggered a little and reached for his lover. Dorian caught his arm and guided him to one of the chairs in the room.

“Cullen?” the mage asked, worry written all over his face now that they were the only ones in the room.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” Cullen replied thickly.

“No, you’re not,” Dorian replied and he shifted where he was crouching. He hated it that Samson still had such an effect on Cullen. That pull was old and deep and it made him feel insecure in ways that would probably horrify Cullen if he knew.

“I should have stood by him after the Blight,” Cullen murmured. “I should have helped him.”

“Amatus…” Dorian grimaced, not really knowing what to say.

Cullen looked at him and smiled wryly. “I know. What’s done is done and can’t be undone.” He reached out and cupped Dorian’s cheek with one hand. “I’m glad you were here, my heart. Maker knows what an idiot I would have made of myself if you weren’t.”

Dorian actually blushed at the endearment and found himself uncharacteristically speechless. He felt the cold clench within him caused by Cullen’s obvious concern for Samson unfurl and disappear.

“What…” The word came out hoarse and croaky and he cleared his throat. “What are we going to do?”

Cullen smirked. “Well, I thought we could go back to the Stronghold and I could show you how much I appreciated you being here.”

Dorian’s eyebrow went up and he matched Cullen’s smirk. “I do rather like that idea but that’s not what I meant, Amatus, and you know it.”

Cullen grinned for a moment then he sobered. “I know. We go back, we tell Leliana, Blackwall and the others what Samson said and we make our plans.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Corypheus holds a party. It's certainly a memorable one.

Cullen pulled at the collar of his dress uniform then grinned as Dorian slapped them away.

“If you pull that coat out of shape, Josephine will have your head,” the mage said with open amusement.

Cullen grumbled. “I swear it’s a size too small.”

“It’s fine, Amatus.” 

Dorian looked around as they walked along the street towards Duke Corypheus’ estate. They were being passed by the occasional small carriage and both before and after them were other nobles heading for the same destination. Duke Corypheus’ ball was highly anticipated, mostly because he so rarely held one. When he did, they were something to be experienced, according to everyone Dorian had spoken to. He suspected this one would be no different, only not for the reasons that the previous ones had been.

“I wish I had my sword,” Cullen muttered.

“You know it wouldn’t look right,” Dorian replied as patiently as he could manage. It wasn’t the first time Cullen had said that. “Blackwall’s people will have it ready if you need it.”

Cullen was silent and when Dorian looked over, his lover was looking rather sheepish.

“I’m being annoying, aren’t I?”

Dorian felt his worry and irritation flow out of him. “Just a little but I suppose it’s understandable.” He looked ahead and blinked. “Is that…?”

“What?”

Dorian chuckled. “I think we’re going to have a great deal of back up tonight. That’s Vivienne and she’s brought Bull and Krem as her escorts.”

Cullen looked ahead and saw a rather incongruous sight. He recognised the imperious Madame de Fer of the Courtesan’s Guild easily in her eye-catching silver and black but he had to look twice at the Iron Bull. The huge Qunari was dressed quite literally as Vivienne’s escort rather than a guard. Most notably, he was wearing a purple coat, caught tight at his waist, slashed with silver and emerald accents and open at the collar to reveal his chest. He looked… stunning. Krem was sloping along behind them in the Guild’s best Guardsman uniform, looking like he was trying desperately not to laugh.

“Well…” Cullen looked rather nonplussed. “That’s certainly… a sight.”

“That it is,” Dorian said with a laugh. “I’m never going to let Bull live this down.”

Cullen arched an eyebrow. “Uh, Dorian? Have you taken a good look at his expression? He’s… really pleased with himself.”

Dorian looked at the Qunari with narrowed eyes then snorted. “Well, that’s no fun.” Then he saw something just beyond Vivienne and Bull that had his eyes widening. He nudged his lover and pointed. “Now _that_ is something to see.”

Cullen followed his finger and saw… Solas. And Cole. At least he thought it was Cole. The young man seemed to disappear every other time he blinked. Solas, however, was dressed in a level of finery he had never seen before and from the looks he was getting, no one else had seen it before either. It was very Elvhen, all shiny metal and draped fur, and Solas looked very imposing in the get up.

“How in the Maker’s name did he get an invitation?” he muttered.

Dorian snorted. “Between Josephine and Leliana, did you imagine anyone we wanted wouldn’t be invited? No doubt he’s being passed off as some kind of mysterious Elven representative.”

“Is there anyone among our friends who _isn’t_ going to be here?” Cullen asked dryly.

“You’re not the only one who believed Samson when he said this could get ugly.”

Cullen felt a sense of relief at that. He should have expected it but it was nice having it more or less confirmed. He knew _Blackwall_ believed that Corypheus was not going to come quietly based on everything the man had said, done and organised but he hadn’t been entirely sure about some of the others.

“I just wish this was all over,” Cullen muttered.

They continued on and soon found themselves at the mansion. Cullen drew in a deep breath and settled his shoulders before affecting a cool, disapproving look that only softened when he looked at Dorian. They’d sorted out their tactics the previous day. As Samson had suggested to Leliana, Cullen was to outwardly express dissatisfaction with all things Haven and Skyhold. Dorian would be taking his part, which was why he was wearing overtly Tevinter robes to go with Cullen’s Fereldan style uniform, complete with the Fereldan court of arms emblazoned on the breast. They would be playing the part of disaffected outsiders to the hilt.

It was an act that quickly proved effective, helped by Cullen’s cool greeting to his wife and her Guard Captain and his quick removal from their vicinity. For a while they were left alone and they found themselves a place in a small alcove that offered them the privacy to speak openly while still being in view of the rest of the partygoers.

“I think it’s working, Amatus,” Dorian said before taking a sip of the goblet of wine he’d accepted from one of the servers. “The nobles can’t seem to decide between dismissing us or being worried about what we might do.”

“Good,” Cullen said. “If it brings Corypheus out of the woodwo…”

He broke off and winced and Dorian placed a hand on his arm.

“Amatus?”

“Can’t you hear it? Feel it?”

Dorian frowned then realised that underneath the chatter of the gathered crowd and the sound of the minstrels playing, he could hear a low unpleasant humming 

“Red lyrium,” he said grimly.

Cullen nodded. “And it’s strong.”

Dorian looked around. “Why doesn’t anyone else notice?”

“They probably don’t know what it is they’re hearing or feeling,” Cullen replied. “They probably think the minstrels are out of tune or the strange feeling is them coming down with a cold or something.”

The hum of the red lyrium grew stronger and a moment later, Duke Corypheus himself emerged from the crowd. Cullen and Dorian noticed how those near him flinched away then looked confused, as though they didn’t know why they were reacting the way they were. They didn’t have time to dwell on that before the Duke approached them.

“Your Highness,” the Duke said with a small bow. “My Lord Pavus.”

“Your Grace,” Cullen said with a nod of his head as Dorian smiled politely.

“You look like you’re not enjoying my party,” Corypheus said with amusement.

“It’s a lovely party, Your Grace,” Cullen said, trying not to show the effects of the red lyrium. “But I’m afraid such things really aren’t my forte.”

“A man of action then?”

“Maybe.” Cullen shrugged. “I’m no courtier, that’s for sure.”

“That’s my job,” Dorian said with a roguish smile and Cullen chuckled, sliding one hand around Dorian’s back.

Cullen smiled back. “That it is.”

“Haven could certainly do with more men of action and fewer courtiers,” Corypheus said smoothly. “Why, even the good Captain Blackwall seems less than efficient.”

“I have the scars to prove _that_ ,” Cullen said with a bitter snort.

Dorian made a sound like an angry cat. “Would you believe Captain Blackwall had the gall to blame _Cullen_ for what happened?”

“He did?” Corypheus looked surprised and neither Cullen nor Dorian could tell if he meant it or was faking. The Duke then shook his head sadly. “I have long worried about his influence over our Queen. She listens to very few.”

“She certainly doesn’t listen to me,” Cullen said sourly.

“She has always been headstrong.” Corypheus sighed. “I have tried to offer my assistance and advice but she rejects it.” He eyed Cullen speculatively. “Perhaps we can assist each other?”

Cullen looked sceptical. “How?”

Corypheus hesitated. “I have heard rumours you intend to return to Fereldan.”

Cullen let that hang in the air for a moment and regretfully decided he’d have to pay up the money he now owed Cassandra. He’d been so sure that Corypheus wouldn’t buy that suggestion but apparently he was giving it some credence.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Cullen admitted reluctantly. “But I will not be parted from Dorian and…” He grimaced. “My country has some very unpleasant attitudes about Tevinter.”

“Maker knows why,” Dorian said with his best idle insouciance. “We did give you your great big slobbering dogs.”

“They _left_ you, you didn’t _give_ them to us,” Cullen said with amusement.

“Semantics, Amatus,” Dorian said with an airy wave of one hand. “Mere semantics.”

Corypheus gave a rusty chuckle. “I have heard much of the Fereldan Mabari.” He fixed Cullen with an intense look. “I know you have no reason to trust the word of a noble of Haven but could I ask you to come to my study where we might speak in private? It need not be long. The host cannot be absent from his own party for too long, after all.”

Cullen hesitated for a moment then he inclined his head graciously. “Of course, Your Grace.” He placed a hand on Dorian’s shoulder. “Wait for me?”

Dorian smiled, though Cullen could see the worry in his eyes. “Of course, Amatus, though I will demand payment later for abandoning me to these dreadfully dull people.”

“Deal,” Cullen said with a chuckle then he allowed Corypheus to lead him away from the ballroom.

It took all of his self-control not to flinch away from the Duke and the feel of the red lyrium that was flowing off him. He knew that there would be a lot of scurrying around going on and he hoped he could handle whatever was going to happen. What he wasn’t expecting when he walked into the study was for Samson to be there.

“Samson,” he said with surprise.

Samson gave him a nod. “Hey, kid.”

“I met Samson in Val Chevin,” Corypheus said, gesturing for Cullen to take a seat. “Wine?”

Cullen caught sight of Samson behind the Duke. The former Templar was looking significantly at the wine decanter and then he gave a small shake of his head.

“No, thank you,” Cullen said idly. “I don’t drink much.”

“Lightweight,” Samson said with fond amusement.

Cullen snorted and gave him an exasperated look. “Just because I prefer to pace myself.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“As pleased as I am to reunite two old friends,” Corypheus said dryly, taking the seat opposite Cullen. “Shall we get to business? Our time is limited.”

“Of course,” Cullen said. “My apologies. Samson and I can catch up later.”

In truth, he was glad to get things moving. The pretence and lies were grating on him. Having to pretend he didn’t know what this man was up to was galling and the sickening song of the red lyrium was unravelling his nerves.

“I had hoped for some slightly better news,” Corypheus said smoothly. “That your wife listened to you.”

“I wish I had better news to give to you.”

“From things I have been told, the influence Blackwall and the Navarran woman have on the Queen is… worrying.” Corypheus sipped at his wine. “I fear that neither have the best interests of Haven in mind. Blackwall is a Marcher after all.” He cocked his head. “Marchers and Nevarrans have no sense of country. Marchers are too independent and Nevarrans are either squabbling over the throne or running away from it.”

Cullen nodded, pretending he agreed. “I see.”

“Fereldens have a far better sense of _country_ ,” Corypheus continued. “Do you think it is possible that could change?”

“I doubt it,” Cullen replied. “She seems to consider me a useful political tool and little more.”

“A pity,” Corypheus said with a sigh then he gave Cullen an assessing look. “Did you know that you would be the natural selection as Regent for Prince Aiden should something terrible happen to the Queen?”

Cullen froze then he affected a frown. “Me? Wouldn’t it be Blackwall? He’s the boy’s father… or so I’ve been told.”

“He is a commoner,” Corypheus replied. “And a foreigner to boot. The nobility would never accept him. Or the Navarran. You, however, despite being from Fereldan, would be the obvious choice. A prince in your own right as well as a decent man.”

“Well, I thank you for the compliment but I doubt anything is going to happen to the Queen,” Cullen replied, trying to sound dismissive.

“Not right now, no.”

Cullen’s eyes narrowed. That hadn’t sounded like a general idle comment, a hint of possibilities. That had sounded like a direct threat, a promise of things that _would_ happen.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that the Queen is not invulnerable.”

Cullen rose to his feet and shook his head. “I don’t want to hear this.”

He barely managed to control his flinch when Corypheus rose to stand beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I am no danger to the Queen but that does not mean there aren’t others who are.”

Cullen let his frown deepen and headed for the door. “That’s something you should be telling Captain Blackwall. I won’t be a part of any assassination attempt. I have an aversion to that sort of thing now.”

Corypheus joined him, his expression now placating. “Now, now, Prince Cullen. No one is talking about assassinating the Queen, merely what might happen if she were to… sicken and die, for example. It is something you should consider. It is a considerable role to be Regent.”

“I think I’ve heard enough,” Cullen said as he led them back into the ballroom. As planned, Blackwall, Leliana and Cassandra were lingering near the door along with a number of neutral nobles and he deliberately raised his voice. “Yes, I think I’ve heard more than enough about your plans against the Queen, Duke Corypheus.”

Everyone within hearing range fell silent and turned to look at them.

“What was that, lad?” Blackwall said sternly, stepping forward with an authoritative air.

Cullen stepped away from Duke Corypheus quite deliberately. “The Duke was telling me how I’d be such an excellent Regent after the Queen died.”

There was a rumble of confusion and uncertainty among the gathered nobles. On one hand, Corypheus was one of their own and well respected but on the other, Cullen was known to be honest and not a liar.

For a moment things hung in the balance then Corypheus snarled, “So… this is how it goes.”

He raised a hand straight at Cullen but before anyone could do anything, there was a flash of movement from behind the Duke and his arm was jerked upwards, the spell he’d unleashed smashing against the ceiling. Dust and rubble rained down on everyone and everything descended into chaos. The nobles began screaming and rushing for the doors, pushing and shoving at each other. Soldiers rushed out of the corridors and formed up in front of the royal party, allowing them to drop back to the bags of arms and armour the guards had brought in. As he was dragged along by Blackwall, Cullen looked back in time to see Corypheus smash Samson against the wall in fury, for it had been the older man who had saved his life.

Then Cullen had to turn his attention to what was happening. He pulled on his armour and picked up his sword and shield as warped Red Templars lumbered into the room. Dorian appeared at his side for a moment and he caught the mage’s arm, pulling him in close for a kiss before he let him go. Dorian ran over to join Solas, who looked like some sort of Elven lord in the clothes he was wearing as he started to cast his spells. 

Cullen joined Blackwall and Cassandra and they were in turned flanked by Bull and Krem on one side and, to his utter surprise, Madame Vivienne on the other as she revealed herself to be a Knight Enchanter. A vulgar cry from one of the ballroom balconies indicated Sera’s presence and a thick kachunk and a bolt appearing in the forehead of one of the Red Templars signalled Varric’s amazing crossbow at work. Cullen hadn’t even known the dwarf was at the party.

Things immediately devolved into the battle chaos he remembered from the Blight and he was glad for the work he’d done with Cassandra and Blackwall as they were able to fight like a unit. Bull and Krem cut swathes through the enemy with their enormous weapons and Vivienne was as terrifying on the battlefield as she was off it. Magic swirled around them from Solas and Dorian and arrows and bolts cut down the enemy. The oddest thing Cullen noticed in the battle was Cole seemingly disappearing and appearing at will, his knives flashing and decimating the warped Templars.

“Enough!”

They were all momentarily blinded by a flash of magic and when their eyes cleared, Corypheus was standing before them. Now the red lyrium he’d absorbed was plainly obvious, glowing brightly. 

“No.”

The quiet word made them all freeze, even the Duke, and Queen Evelyn walked past them to stand before Corypheus.

“Stand down, Corypheus, and let us help you.” She gestured towards the red lyrium. “That has driven you mad. Stop now and let us help or we will cut you down.”

Corypheus sneered and Cullen tensed. The Duke had barely even begun to raise his hand when Cullen leapt forward and pulled Evelyn close to him, raising his shield to protect them both. Before Corypheus’ spell could impact with his shield, they were both surrounded by a shimmering blue barrier and the spell smashed against it. The barrier held long enough for Cullen to drag Evelyn back and shove her behind them.

“Do what must be done,” the Queen said coldly. “Do not hesitate.”

There was a moment of hesitation then the battle began. Corypheus was a formidable opponent and a powerful mage, magic that was enhanced by the red lyrium he had absorbed. Cullen, Blackwall and Cassandra attacked him from the front, forming a bulwark that kept his attention. Bull and Krem came at him from one side while Vivienne’s awesome magical blade slashed at him from the other side. Arrows and bolts flew alongside spells and Cole darted in and out from behind. 

Then, almost as an aside, Cullen noticed Cole hesitate, look behind him and disappear. His attention was immediately claimed when a spell smashed at him and Cassandra, sending them both sprawling and gasping for breath, pain radiating through them. A barrier sprung up around them as Blackwall set himself firmly in front of them, his sword and shield raised. Dead Red Templars lurched back to life and hurled themselves at Corypheus but then the Duke suddenly gasped and lurched forward.

For a moment they were all confused then they saw the end of a blade emerging from the man’s chest. Corypheus stared at them with shock as his hand plucked at the pointed blade of the sword.

“No,” he gasped. “It wasn’t… meant to happen… this way.”

His eyes glazed over red and as they watched, the red lyrium seemed to throb and grow and Cullen blanched as for the second time in his life, he watched a person be turned into a statue of red lyrium.

Silence fell that was broken by a low moan and the quiet murmur of Cole’s voice. Cullen stepped around the statue of Corypheus and saw Samson slumped on the floor, blood speckling his lips, as Cole supported him. As Cullen approached, his sword and shield dropping from his hands, Samson grinned up at him, revealing blood-stained teeth.

“Gregoir’ll have you scrubbing the latrines for that,” he croaked, nodding towards the sword and shield.

“Raleigh…” Cullen came to a choked halt as he fell to his knees next to the older man.

“Haven’t called me that for a long time.” Samson closed his eyes. “It’s for the best, kid.” He opened his eyes again. “Maybe you weren’t so wrong about me after all.”

He slumped back into Cole’s grip and his eyes went blank and empty. Cullen bowed his head and placed one hand on Samson’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.

“He was pleased to die a good man,” Cole said quietly. “Pleased to prove you right.”

Cullen nodded and bowed his head. He felt more than saw someone come and kneel beside him and knew it was Dorian. He leaned into the man and turned his head so that he could bury his face in the mage’s shoulder. He felt Dorian’s arm snake around his waist and they simply kneeled there in silence as the others moved around them, starting to sort out the mess.


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To the victors go the spoils.
> 
> Welp, this is the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.

Cullen leaned against the wall beside one of the windows of his rooms and looked out over the view of Skyhold it offered. He felt like an age had passed since the last time he’d done this and certainly his life had changed quite considerably. He didn’t feel as lost and alone as he had back then. He had Dorian to love and a number of friends who cared about him as much as he cared about them. He no longer felt like an unwanted outsider in this country.

“Ready, Amatus?”

Cullen turned around to find Dorian standing in the middle of the room. The mage was wearing one of his sets of Tevinter mage robes that had so many straps and buckles that it seemed almost ridiculous. Cullen _had_ learned which straps and buckles needed to be undone to get Dorian _out_ of those robes so he wasn’t inclined to complain too much.

“I’m not sure why this has to be done.”

“Not recognise the hero Prince who uncovered the nefarious plot of the evil Duke?” Dorian said, his lips twitching into a smile. “Perish the thought.”

“I was hardly the only one involved,” Cullen said with a frown.

Dorian came over and smoothed down his tunic before kissing him. “You were the one who put himself at risk to finally expose the Duke. Take credit for what you do, Amatus.”

Cullen pulled Dorian close and sighed. “I just did what was necessary.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be thanked,” Dorian replied. “I just don’t know why _I’m_ being included in this.”

Cullen shrugged. “Don’t look at me. When Josephine’s on the kind of tear she’s been in the last few days, I just do what I’m told.”

“Wise man,” Dorian said with a chuckle.

Cullen smiled then leaned in and kissed Dorian. The kiss quickly deepened and they lost themselves in each other, their hands roaming and sliding under clothes, until they heard someone clear their throat. They pulled away from each other and looked around to find Cassandra standing in the doorway, pretending to look disapproving. The gleam of approval and amusement in her eyes gave the lie to her expression though.

“It’s time.”

Cullen sighed and reluctantly pulled away from Dorian. They pulled themselves back into order and joined Cassandra who escorted them to the doors of the throne room. There they waited until they heard the Herald make his announcement.

“His Royal Highness, the Prince Consort of Skyhold, Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Ferelden and Lord Dorian Pavus, member of the Circle of Vyrantium, son of Lord Magister Halward Pavus of Azaria.”

“ _Vishante kaffas_ ,” Dorian breathed. “Where did they dig those things up from?”

“Are they true?” Cullen asked.

“Yes.” Dorian’s voice was a little sour. “I just thought I’d left them behind.”

“Get going,” Cassandra said with exasperation, jolting them out of their conversation.

The doors to the throne room swept open and they made their way slowly through the hall. The gathered nobles bowed as they passed and by the time they reached the dais, both Cullen and Dorian were more than a little uncomfortable. They were settled a little when Evelyn gave them a wicked little grin and Blackwall nodded from his place, standing beside and just behind Evelyn’s throne. Cullen’s throne was standing empty beside Evelyn’s and Cassandra now took her place to one side of that chair.

“As you all now know, we owe both our life and the life of our son to the courage and bravery of our husband, Prince Cullen,” Evelyn said, sitting up straight and looking out over the gathered crowd. “He faced a danger that was greater for him than anyone else here and he never faltered, even when others sought to take his life. In doing so, he reminded us that we must never become complacent against dangers from both within and without. As such, in consultation with our Council, we have decided to reach back into Haven’s history and restore a title that was allowed, perhaps erroneously, to fade out of existence. Thus, we name Prince Cullen the Master-General of the Ordnance with the rank of Commander. In conjunction with Captain Blackwall and Sister Leliana, he shall be responsible for the general safety of not only Haven’s people but also Haven itself.”

There was a great cheer of approval from the crowd as Evelyn rose to her feet. She was handed a rather grand ceremonial medallion by Josephine and she stepped down to place it around Cullen’s neck.

“Blackwall will corral you tomorrow to discuss what this role entails,” she murmured before kissing him on the cheek and beaming at him.

Cullen bowed deeply and when he straightened, Evelyn was still standing. The crowd went quiet and Evelyn relaxed and took on a far less imposing air.

“There is one other we must recognise as well.” She shot a glance at Dorian then gave him an impish smile at his sudden look of panic. “Prince Cullen was ably supported by Lord Dorian Pavus, who has been a loyal…” She paused and then continued with a small smile. “And loving partner who has supported Prince Cullen and fought fiercely at his side. Since Lord Pavus has formally retired from his previous role as a courtesan, it seems only right that he take up the titles to which he is entitled by birth and skill and furthermore we bestow upon him the Duchy of Amladaris, which has recently been vacated.” Her voice was rather dry as she said that last bit then she smiled at Dorian. “Welcome to the court of Haven, Duke Dorian Pavus. We hope that you will agree to join our Council and offer your expertise and skill to your Queen.”

Dorian was actually a little stunned but he still remembered to bow and murmur his thanks and agreement to the Queen.

Evelyn turned back to the crowd. “There is much that must be done to uncover the full extent of Corypheus’ nefarious plans but you may be confident that your Queen, Prince Consort and Council will uncover all that must be known. For now, my people, enjoy the celebration!”

The doors to the Grand Hall were flung open to reveal tables laden with food and a band of minstrels playing bright and happy music. The crowd of nobles cheered and made their way into the other room while the royal party lingered.

“A little warning might have been nice,” Dorian complained, though all present could see that he didn’t really mean it. He seemed rather stunned by the turn of events.

“You would have run away if I had,” Evelyn replied tartly. “I had no choice but to ambush you.”

“I wouldn’t have run away,” Dorian protested then he wavered. “Well, I might have. I left all that behind in Tevinter.”

Evelyn laughed and pushed up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek. “I know but you deserve it and it gives you a title that’s not dependent on Cullen so that you two can be equals.”

“She’s the Queen, Dorian,” Cullen said with a grin. “We all have to do what she says.”

“Really?” Evelyn said, matching Cullen’s grin with her own. “I like that idea.”

“Your Majesty,” Josephine said gently but with obvious impatience.

“Yes, yes,” Evelyn said, taking Cullen’s arm. “I guess we’d better go and do all the official stuff. The sooner we get that done, the sooner you can take Dorian off and do naughty things with him.”

Cullen blushed and Dorian burst out laughing. “Why, Your Majesty, you sound almost intrigued.”

Evelyn blushed now. “No, no. I have enough to handle with Blackwall. I don’t need to know what’s going on with you two. Just be happy.”

Cullen smiled at Dorian, his blush slowly fading. “I think we will be.”


End file.
